Spot's Milkshake
by C.M. Higgins
Summary: Brandie hopes to escape her dark past and start a new life in New York, but when things go from bad to worse, how will she handle it?
1. Milkshake?

Spot's Milkshake  
  
Chapter One: Milkshake?  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own the Newsies, Disney does. I do own Brandie and Troy, Randy, and Johnny! and the plot!  
  
"Hows it going sweet cheeks?" Harold Devirea asked me in the most annoying voice.  
  
I turned to face him. He was always mocking me. "Don't ya need ta be selling them papes?" I asked him, pointing to the small stack of newspapers sitting next to him.  
  
"Not at the moment." He leered at me, still smiling his same crooked smile. I rolled my eyes, and punched him in the face, making him trip over a crate that lay just inches behind him. He stumbled back a few more steps, and fell backwards into the Brooklyn River. I smiled and turned around to face the muffled sounding applause behind me. I waved to the Brooklyn boys who were staring at me with shocked expressions plastered to their dirty faces.  
  
I caught a glimpse of the most handsome looking boy. He too was staring at me, dazed like the rest of them. I turned back around, and continued to walk back to Randy's Newspaper Stand. Randy's was where the newspapers were made and distributed to the newsies. I was going to work there, giving the newsies their papes. I had only just arrived in Brooklyn a week ago, and had just gotten a job at Randy's earlier that morning.  
  
***  
  
The next morning I woke up later then I would have wanted to. I hated myself for being so tired, but luckily I arrived at Randy's the minute the circulation bell rang.  
  
"Nice run Brandie." Randy Smith told me the moment I walked in the door. "If you run that fast tomorrow, you might be out of a job."  
  
"Yeah, well maybe I should buy meself a rooster that crows when da sun comes up." I told him sarcastically. He rolled his eyes, defeated. I walked over to where the papes were and started to haul them over to where me and Randy sat.  
  
"Couldn't fin' the toothpaste this mornin'. Now me breath is gonna stink." I heard a boy outside the window say.  
  
"It always stinks." Another boy told the first. A few boys chorused laughs.  
  
"What'll it be kid?" Randy asked the first boy in line.  
  
"30 papes." The small boy replied, as he handed Randy some money.  
  
"30 papes!" Randy screamed to me two other boys that gave the newsies their papers.  
  
Johnny got to the pile first and eagerly gave the sandy-haired boy his papers.  
  
"Next"  
  
"50 papes" A taller blonde hair boy said.  
  
"50 papes." This time, I reached the pile of papers first and lugged them over to him.  
  
"Next"  
  
To my dismay, it was Harold. "Let's have that purty lady over there gimme my papes." He smirked at me. The only thing about him that made me smile was his black eye that I had given him the previous day.  
  
"No requests. Now, how many?"  
  
"50 papes." He looked at me and motioned for me to get his papes. I stood still on the spot. Johnny rushed over and brought the heavy stack to him. Harold looked rather upset. He gave me a cold, hard look, and then moved onward to the streets to start his day.  
  
"Next" A medium sized-boy with red suspenders and a slingshot in one pocket walked up to the window. It was the handsome boy I saw yesterday at the docks.  
  
"100 papes." He said all too confidently.  
  
"100 papes!" Randy shouted.  
  
I had only moved a few steps when he looked at me and saluted me with only two fingers. I was disappointed to see that Troy had gotten his papes for him and he left. There was something about him that drew me to him. He was quickly forgotten when more and more newsies demanded their papes.  
  
"Next"  
  
"80 papes."  
  
"80 papes." Randy yelled.  
  
***  
  
"Where you from?" Troy asked me as we cleaned up all the papes that the newsies hadn't bought.  
  
"New Jersey." I replied without looking at him.  
  
"I see. What brings ya ta Brooklyn, New York?" He pressed further.  
  
"Not much. I heard dat New York was da place ta be. So I decided to come here." That wasn't entirely a lie, but it wasn't the entire truth. I didn't want to talk about my past. I never wanted to think about it. This was my new life, my only life as far as I was concerned.  
  
"Why isn't a strong, nice man like yourself out theah selling papes?" It was my turn to push a subject that didn't want to be pushed.  
  
"Selling papes just ain't the life fer me."  
  
"But giving papes ta the newsies out there is?" I asked him. He made no sense at all. There was something hidden within him. I could see it in his eyes. A dark sense hovered over him. He was a lost soul, just like myself, with no where to turn. "So what do we do once we're done here?" I asked him.  
  
"I jus' go and hang around the city. There's nothing ta do, unless ya wanna stick around here with ol' Randy over theah." He motioned with his head to Randy, who was counting all the money the newsies had given him.  
  
I certainly didn't want to stay with Randy all day. But I didn't want to be with Troy either. Johnny was only 11 and he had already left. I bid Troy goodbye, and left Randy's Newspaper Stand. I could hear the shouts of all of the newsies, trying to sell their papes before the day was over. I wandered through the streets for sometime, praying I wouldn't run into Harold.  
  
Satisfied that I had walked long enough, I found a bench alongside the road and sat down. As I watched the people bustle around in the streets, I couldn't help but wonder what life would be like here. So far, it wasn't what I had thought it would be. So I had helped at the Stand, but really, now what? That was only for about and hour and a half, including clean-up. The rest of the day was mine. I had enjoyed going to the docks the most. The only disadvantage of that was, that Harold might be there. He disgusted me to no end. He didn't even know me, yet he was always making my life a living hell. Luckily I would only see him in the morning.  
  
"Getcha papes. Getcha papes over here." I strained my head to see who was interrupting my train of thought. To my pleasure it was the handsome boy from the docks.  
  
"I'll take a couple." I yelled in his direction. He turned to me and I swear I saw him smile.  
  
"How many? One?" He asked me.  
  
"Three please." I flipped him a few cents and reached for the papers.  
  
"Whatcha gonna do wit' 3 papes?" He asked, as he thrust the money in his pockets.  
  
"Dunno." I mumbled as I read the headline. "I'm just takin em off ya hands." I looked up and smiled at him.  
  
"The names Spot. And how's bout ya?" He sat down next to me, lying his papers on his lap.  
  
"Brandie." I said, looking up from the headline.  
  
"Well, 'Brandie' I best be gettin' out theah. Them papes can't sell 'emselves. See ya round' the docks sometime?" He patted the papers on his lap and stood up. Before I could answer he walked away. He yelled out random headlines. I stood up, and watched him walk away. So Spot was the boy that had sucked me into his life. I had never really needed anyone, yet now, I wanted to need Spot. He was different from anyone I had ever met.  
  
"Can I show ya round Brooklyn?" Troy had walked up behind me. He startled me for only a moment. His words were extremely inviting. His smile made my knees crumble, allowing all my weight to fall to the ground. Somehow I remained standing.  
  
"I would like dat." I was confused. Didn't I just fall for Spot, now Troy was creeping his way to my heart. No, Spot was just a handsome acquaintance. Troy on the other hand, well I was not sure of what Troy was. A working partner perhaps?  
  
"Eva seen da Brooklyn Bridge?" He asked me. His dark hair swished in the wind.  
  
"I've crossed it." I replied nonchalantly. I didn't know. It was almost like Spot was inviting me to the docks without saying it. He seemed like the type of person who wouldn't mind if I didn't go to the docks.  
  
"Alright then, shall I show ya all da shops?" He looked at me. His face was radiant against the sun that shone so brightly. "I'd like that too." I told him.  
  
He showed me the best, and cheapest restaurant in town, 'Canary Pub' it was called. I found this to be the oddest name, but it appeared to be normal to everyone else. Next, he showed me where the newsies slept. It had a simple name, Newsboys Lodging House. He explained to me that this name was used for all the newsies all over New York.  
  
He took me by the library, the bank, and a few more restaurants.  
  
"I want ta buy ya someting at the pub." He told me, referring to Canary's Pub. "No, that's alrigh, I'll make it until breakfast."  
  
"I insist." He said to me, as he pulled me to the pub. I only tried to resist at first. I realized that I couldn't stop him. His grip was so tight around my wrist, I thought it was going to fall off. We twisted and turned through alleys and crowded streets. Most of the newsies were just about done selling their papers. I watched as they tried desperately to sell the last of the papers. I felt somewhat sympathetic, but newspapers and young boys selling them slipped my mind as Troy led me inside the pub.  
  
It smelled of coffee that had lost its early morning smell, overcooked muffins, and smoke that filled the air. It was a fairly small area. The smoke traveled easily from the cigars that were being lit. I looked for the menu. It was a small chalkboard that I could barely see. Whoever had written it had incredibly small handwriting and very bad spelling. This irritated me. I vaguely knew how to spell, but I knew what I wrote. I did not enjoy trying to read what this idiot had attempted to write. I became frustrated with the small handwriting much sooner then I would have wanted. In my anger I ordered the only thing that I had managed to read.  
  
"I'll have, uh, a milkshake?" it was more of a question than a statement. I didn't really know what a milkshake was, but Troy told me it was very thick ice cream.  
  
"One milkshake." The man behind the counter announced to the entire pub. I glanced behind my shoulder and looked to see if anyone had turned to see who he was talking to. They didn't. I was almost relieved, and I don't know why. I glanced at that menu one last time. I was alarmed that I had chosen one of the most expensive items that you could buy there.  
  
"Troy." I said tugging lightly on his shirt. "I, uh, well, I'm sorry." I pointed at the menu.  
  
"Yeah, so ya bought da milkshake." He said.  
  
"Yea, but it's 8 cents." I said, feeling slightly ashamed.  
  
"An' I 'ave 10 cents. I ain't hungry anyways." He didn't look upset or anything. His eyes didn't reveal anything. I wish they would've because, I would have loved to know what he was thinking about me and my bad choice of food.  
  
My mind did nothing for the next 10 minutes. I slurped my chocolate tasting milkshake and sat there, staring into space. The only thing that sucked me out of the void of nothingness that my empty mind had created was the noise coming through the door. I spun around and glared at the batch of newsies that were being incredibly loud. I was in one of those moods where I didn't want to be disturbed. They were jumping around and acting like the kings of the world. I rolled my eyes and focused on my milkshake. I hadn't even tasted it until now. It was the most wonderful thing my taste buds had ever tasted. I savored every sip.  
  
"So's, how's it?" Troy leaned dangerously close to me. "It's wonderful, wanna try it?" I passed him the glass and he accepted. He gingerly held the straw up to his lips and took a small sip.  
  
"It is nice. I wish I had enough money ta buy meself one." He said, taking another long sip. I had to grab it away from him, or he would've sucked it all down in one gulp.  
  
"S'cuse me sir, but I tink that you were treatin' me, not yourself!" I playfully slapped him on the shoulder. He smiled at me. This time though, his smile did not make me melt. This was probably because at that exact second, Spot walked into the pub. I quickly turned around to face him.  
  
He didn't notice me there at first, but within a couple seconds, he stopped in his tracks and stared directly at me. He seemed annoyed that I was there, sitting next to Troy, but hid that emotion away. I had to get out of there. I felt awkward sitting next to Troy with Spot in the same room.  
  
"Uh, here ya can have da rest. I need ta get goin, thanks again." I hurriedly gave Troy my milkshake, and rushed out the door.  
  
***  
  
I had no idea where I was planning to go, I just knew that I had to get away from all of those feelings. Unfortunately, they followed me wherever I went. It was dusk by the time I stumbled onto the docks. Noone was there, and I thanked god for this. I had no intention of talking to anyway for the next few hours. I simply wanted to sit and think about everything that had happened today. I was not so lucky in that matter. I leaned back against a box, and began to relax. I had just drifted away to into a world of fairy tales, when I was startled by a most familiar voice.  
  
"So where'd me milkshake run off ta?" I half smiled, half frowned. I hesitantly stood up. When I finally did, I saw none other than Spot.  
  
"There's ya is."  
  
I was throughly confused. Milkshake? What was he talking about? And why did he come find me?  
  
"Why are you heah?" I asked him, trying to sound as polite as possible.  
  
He seemed to be taken aback by my bold question, but he recovered quickly. "I was simply makin sure ya was ok." He answered.  
  
"Why? Not ta be mean or anyting. Thanks fer your concern, but I hardly know ya. Why should ya be worried?" I asked. I hoped I hadn't sounded too harsh. I meant to tell him that I wasn't trying to belittle his kindness toward me. He seemed to take it the wrong way though.  
  
"I'm sorry ta bother ya, what did ya say your name was? Brandie? Anyways, Brooklyn is a rough town, and ya don't seem to be familiar wit da streets. These streets ain't nice to newcomers either." He shot me the nastiest look.  
  
"Well, would they hit a goil?" I knew what his answer would be before I asked him. To my surprise, it was different than I expected.  
  
"I wouldn't think so, unless this certain goil poses a threat ta them. And maybe they would if this goil had the guts ta punch Harold Devirea in the face. Which, I believe ya did just yesterday." He smirked at me.  
  
"So? What has Harold done ta anyone ta earn respect?"  
  
"A great deal o' things." He said with no emotion.  
  
This time I was the one taken aback. Harold didn't seem like the kind of kid who would hurt anyone. Ok, he was cute, but so incredibly annoying at the same time.  
  
"Alrigh'. What did ya mean by milkshake?" By now, Spot wasn't the attractive boy I had met earlier. He was on the edge of becoming the second Harold in my life.  
  
"Well, I noticed ya had a milkshake at da pub. Since most everyone has a nickname, I tought that maybe your nickname could be Milkshake?" He said this more of a question then a statement. I thought it over. Milkshake. This was the name everyone would call me. I wasn't sure if I liked this, but I went along with it.  
  
"Milkshake it is then."  
  
~A/N~ Alright! I love writing about Spot in particular I think it will be a hard task to portray him. I hope you all like this story! Reviews help A LOT! So please review...the next chappie will be up soon! 


	2. Tour de Brooklyn

Spot's Milkshake  
  
Chapter Two: Tour de Brooklyn  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own the Newsies! But I do own the plot and Brandie, Randy, Troy, Harold, and Johnny! Basically anyone who wasn't in the Newsies Moive!  
  
"There's still time left in da day. I'll show ya round Brooklyn the real way." Spot didn't move. I really wanted to see Brooklyn, and Spot seemed to know it well.  
  
"S'ok." I responded lightly.  
  
"Good. You ain't the dumb broad I tought ya would be." He told me, laughing merrily. This put my spirits down instantly. He thought I was dumb? I reluctantly followed him as he pointed out who people were and where things were. The thing that was different from Troy's tour was that people actually knew who Spot was. He stopped in front of the Newsboys Lodging House.  
  
"I've seen this already." I indicated towards the boarding house.  
  
"I bet ya 'ave. Eva seen wha's inside?" He asked nonchalantly , opening the door. He walked inside and waited for me to follow him. Eagerly, I clambered in next to him. A couple boys lingered in the doorway, they also knew Spot. He lead me up the staircase, continually greeting everyone that walked past us. He walked into a deserted room. Bunk beds lined the walls. Clothes were strewn across many of the beds, and a trace of smoke could be detected if I tried hard enough to uncover it.  
  
"I spect this is where ya live?" I asked him.  
  
"Yea. Wit da other guys. Dis isn't wheah we hang out dough. Dat's downstairs." He lead me down the stairs and into a room that had cards and unlit cigars. There was a few boys playing a game of poker in the back corner. They looked up from their cards and gave me an odd look.  
  
"Dis is the clubhouse" Spot explained. "We's does everting here." He walked over and joined the poker game. He acted as if I wasn't even there anymore. I didn't just want to leave, but I didn't know what to say. I watched them play and bet their day's earnings for a few minutes before I decided that I had better leave.  
  
I retraced my steps out of the Lodging House.  
  
*** "Hiya Mrs. Tabernak." I said, stepping into the musty smelling cigar store.  
  
"Hello dear. How was your first day at your job?" The older woman asked me.  
  
"It was alrigh'. I just get ta do da same ol' ting tomorrow." I told her. Mr. and Mrs. Tabernak owned the local cigar store. They had allowed me to stay in the guest room above the store. They were an elderly couple with no children. I wouldn't consider them my 'adoptive' parents. They just took me in last week.  
  
"How much do they pay you anyways?" Mr. Tabernak asked as he stepped out of the storage room.  
  
"Uh, I dunno. Money." I told him, as I slipped off my worn out shoes.  
  
"Hopefully enough to get a new pair of shoes." Debbie Tabernak added.  
  
"I ain't gonna make dat much." I informed her. She seemed shocked.  
  
"How much do they pay you?" Robert Tabernak asked once more.  
  
"I says I dunno. Even if it was 'nough ta buy meself more shoes, I wouldn't." The conversation ended there. I had won, they stopped pressing me with questions. "I'm gonna go ta bed now." I told them, as I walked away.  
  
My bedroom wasn't the warmest, but I'm sure it was better than sleeping on the streets. I slept in a four poster bed that had 2 blankets. The spring mattress was hard on my back, but I learned to deal with it. The smoke from the store occasionally made its way up to my room. I could easily hear everything that was being said downstairs. This had always been the highlight of my day when I didn't work. I would listen to what the customers wanted and how the Tabernaks responded. They were a nice couple that I respected a lot.  
  
I was especially tired tonight. I fell asleep within minutes.  
  
*** "Hey sleepyhead, better get up unless you wanna be late again." Mr. Tabernak woke me up the next morning.  
  
I warily climbed out of bed and made my way downstairs to eat a piece of cold toast. I shoved the frozen piece of bread into my mouth and took off for Randy's.  
  
My light brown hair fell across my face as I sprinted to the circulation office. I made it only a few minutes earlier than the day before. Luckily Randy was bringing the newspapers to the front that he didn't see me.  
  
"Help em' will ya Brandie!" He shouted when I stepped through the door. "Firs' ring that damn bell up there. Them boys won't come unless they ear' it ring." He attempted to motion to the circulation bell, but accidentally let go and dropped all the papes he was holding. "Then pick these up will ya." He told me as he went to grab more papers, leaving the ones he dropped on the floor.  
  
I casually made my way to the bell. I reached up only slightly and shook it with all of my might. It rung so loudly I was glad when I saw the first newsboy walked up. I instantly stopped ringing it. The ringing noise resided in my ears as I went to pick up Randy's mess of newspapers. Before I could even reach down to pick up the papers, Randy barked out orders.  
  
"C'mon Brandie move fasta!" His word tortured me as I picked up the armful of papers. I pounded them on his desk as a few newsies approached.  
  
"30 papes." A boy told me. His eyes mocked me. I hated him already.  
  
Out of spite, I only gave him 20 papes. The dimwit didn't even check to make sure he got what he payed for. I smiled smugly to myself.  
  
"C'mon Brandie, don't just stand dere. Gettem dere papes." Randy instructed. My smile had faded, but my mood was stil cheerful. I happily walked over to where the papers were coming off the press.  
  
"60 papes." I heard Randy call out. I didn't rush to get them. There were other boys that would. Instead, I hauled stacks of newspapers to Johnny, who in turn would let Troy and another boy named Sniff, take them to Randy.  
  
For twenty minutes, Randy mumbled random numbers. I brought more and more papers to him, thinking about the growing hole on the sole of my shoe.  
  
"Smalls, where was ya yestaday?" I heard Randy ask a small Puerto Rican girl.  
  
"Sick as a damn dog. 50 papes." She slid her money under the window to Randy. Sniff took her papers to her, drooling as he did. I rolled my eyes. Did he really think he had a chance with her? He must've seen me, because he hung his head.  
  
Frankly I didn't care if he saw me or not. It wasn't my problem if I had hurt his feelings. I didn't worry about it. What I worried about was Troy. He hadn't spoken to me since yesterday afternoon at the pub.  
  
The rest of the morning dragged on. I had spoken to Sniff briefly. He seemed like a nice kid. I could tell that Troy was jealous because he gave me the cruelest look. I laughed it off, pretending to laugh at some dumb joke Johnny told me. Finally, the morning was over.  
  
"Well I gotta go sell dem papes." Sniff told me, smashing his greasy hair with a worn out hat.  
  
"What?" I said all too quickly. "Wells, I need da extry money. So I sells the papes to da newsies in da morning, then I sells da papes to da citizens of Brooklyn." He explained. He tipped his hat to me, bought 20 papes and left.  
  
"Clean em up you 3." Randy yelled in my direction.  
  
I avoided Troy's eyes, which began increasingly hard. I could feel him watching me. I tried to pay attention to my hands, but I couldn't. If I didn't talk to Troy now, he would probably stalk me the rest of the day and then beat me to dust. I put the last of the papers that the newsies hadn't bought, and walked over to Troy.  
  
"So's, the milkshake was good?" I asked him. He didn't move a muscle. I knew he was contemplating his answer.  
  
"Sure. So where did ya go? Spot Conlon followed ya out. Confused all o' his men, and me. I tought he was gonna soak ya." He seemed more relaxed now that we were talking.  
  
"Oh. Well I didn't talk ta no one. Who's Spot Conlon?" I asked, lying right to his face.  
  
"He's da leader of all da Brooklyn newsies. Tough as nails dat boy is." He still looked disgusted at the sound of Spot's name, but I couldn't figure out why. I decided to ask more questions. I wanted to know as much about Spot as I could, and Troy seemed to know.  
  
"Is he a good leader?"  
  
"I suppose. I don't consider meself a Brooklyn newsie, an' I don't know im'. He didn't seem to care. This might not be the best time to interrogate him about Spot.  
  
"Ave' a nice day then." I said, walking quietly past Randy.  
  
I breathed a huge breath of fresh air when I opened the doors. It was nice to hear all of the newsboys yelling out false headlines. I had read some of the paper and knew what the true stories were about.  
  
They were hawking out headline's for a story about how a clockmakers clocks had the wrong gears and has stopped working. The clocks weren't even fully assembled. The newsies screamed out things like, "Time stops, thousands left without time!" Others hawked out more titles. One caught my attention.  
  
"Time stops everywhere in New York. Thousands terrified.!" I laughed to myself as a group of lawyers rushed over to the boy. They quickly turned to that story, but their eager faces were swallowed with disgust as they read what really happened. Most of them turned to the boy and demanded their money back, but he was already gone.  
  
I thought about what Sniff had told me about his two jobs. I needed the extra money. Instead of going to the docks, where I was planning to go, I turned around and headed for 'Tabernak Cigars.' Maybe the Tabernaks would allow me to work at their shop in the afternoons.  
  
***  
  
Mr. Tabernak had just finished serving an elderly man when I arrived.  
  
"Back early?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.  
  
"Yea. I needs some extry cash. So's I was wonderin' if I could woik heah in da afternoon." I looked at him, my heart beat with anticipation.  
  
"Work here? How much you talkin about?" He asked me suddenly.  
  
"Whateva you're willing ta give." I didn't want to demand money, but I needed it.  
  
"Hmm. How's about 50 cents an hour for 2 hours?" I agreed.  
  
"Alrigh'. Cept, I wanna woik in the storage room. Ya know, bring ya da cigars. Or maybe clean up round da place. I offered.  
  
"If that's what you want. But could you work the counter today? We was gonna close the shop up cause we are going somewhere. But since you wanna work." He paused, waiting for my answer.  
  
"Ahh, sure." I reluctantly agreed. I had no idea what I would do. I'd never had a job like this before.  
  
"Thanks again. We should be back in two houes or so. Money's in the register. Can you give change?" His eyes questioned m"I can count." I hoped this would be good enougfor him. He looked at my strangly. Mrs. Tabernak's bustling about made us both look at her.  
  
"Sorry, lost my earring." She explained. "Better get going." She pushed her husband out the door and waved to me. I doubted that she even realized I was running her store.  
  
~A/N~ Yeah, I know. Her wages are really small, but that just shows how much kids were paid back then. -It was obviously hard for the kids, boys and girls alike. -They worked for whatever they could. -I also tried to show how much Brandie is unappreciated at Randy's! Not much else to say really! Reviews are welcomed..I love reviews! Hope you all liked it! 


	3. Havana Cigar Please

Spot's Milkshake  
  
Chapter Three: Havana Cigar Please  
  
Disclaimer: I don't the Newsie characters i.e. Spot and Racetrack. I do however own the rest of the characters and the plot!  
  
For the next 15 minutes, I observed my surroundings. There were hundreds of antique looking cigars. Shelves that contained old black boxes of cigars lined the walls. It looked like my job was going to be easy. No one came in, despite the crowded, noisy streets outside.  
  
I was enjoying myself until a boy walked in. My muscles tightened as his gaze fell upon the merchandise. I waited for him to make his decision. It took longer than I would've wanted. It bugged me, because all the cigars looked the same to me. Could it really be that hard to decide if he wanted the one on the right, or the one on the left?  
  
"Nice place ya gots heah." He leaned over the counter, looking at me with soft brown eyes.  
  
"Ain't mine. I jus' woik heah." I informed him.  
  
"A Havana cigar if ya would." He told me. I looked at all the cigars on display. Which one was a "havana" one? They all looked the same to me. I nervously looked at him. He seemed irritated. I quickly looked back down at my selection. I placed my hand over a cigar the was on the far right.  
  
"Dat ain't it." He said with no emotion. I moved my hand over two cigars, and looked at him. "Nope"  
  
I was getting annoyed by now. I touched one on the left this time, and placed it under his nose.  
  
"You 'ave no idea what you're doin do ya?" He asked, smiling.  
  
"No. I spose you do?" I challenged.  
  
"Well, I know dat da one I want ain't even in dat row." He laughed as he pointed at a larger cigar on the top row. I grabbed it with sweaty palms and shoved it at him. I hastily looked down at an old, yellowing piece of paper that listed all the types of cigars and their prices.  
  
"Forty cents." I held out my hand, waiting for him to pay. He flipped me the money and continued to look around.  
  
"I spose you've never been 'ere then?" I asked. The expression on his face was full of curiosity. He lit his cigar causally, not answering me. I looked at him menacingly. It took him awhile to notice that I was waiting for him to answer. He seemed amused by the whole situation.  
  
"Nah, neva been heah. Friend o mine told me bout it. Said I would like it." He took a long drag on his cigar and started to walk to the back room. I ran up to the door and blocked the doorway.  
  
"Where'd ya think ya was goin?" I asked him. It was my turn to smile. He looked at me wildly.  
  
"I didn't think such a nice lil' goily would mind." He gushed at me, trying to get past me. I refused.  
  
"Yea? Well dis lil' goil does mind. Why'd ya wanna go back dere anyhow?"  
  
"I wanted ta look round." His voice was rising. "Look, I've 'ad a bad day. Could ya jus' cut me some slack?" He asked as he pushed my arms to my side and walked past me. I watched him for a moment, then followed him.  
  
"I'd love ta cut you some slack, cept dere ain't a reason too!" I spat at him.  
  
"Alrigh, alrigh." He puffed some smoke from his cigar and headed to the door. I returned to the counter and watched him leave. He didn't leave. He turned around at looked at me. "You're gonna need 'elp. Mind if I stay an' elp ya?" He asked.  
  
I was taken aback. He wanted to stay here and help me? I knew I could use the help. I didn't know anything about cigars. He did.  
  
"Ere's da plan. I ask da person what dey want, an' you get it fer em." I offered.  
  
"Sounds alrigh." He walked back behind the counter with me, and playfully pushed me over to the side, laughing merrily. I stood back there for awhile. He basically took over, and I was getting paid for it. This day was working out for me.  
  
"So, where ya from?" I asked.  
  
"Manhattan." He replied. "The names Racetrack. You?" He asked.  
  
"Er, Brandie." It was only then that I realized we hadn't exchanged names.  
  
"Brandie? Dat a nickname or sometink? Do ya gots a nickname?" He looked back at me.  
  
"Milkshake is me nickname." I answered. I didn't have to think about this for more than a second. I remembered what Spot had called me only the day before. Racetrack stopped talking as a group of men in their thirties walked in.  
  
"Can I 'elp ya fellas?" Race asked in his heavy New York accent. The men told him what they wanted. He instantly picked out everything that had asked for. He turned to me and motioned for me to come help him. Help him with what though. My face must've expressed my question because he whispered in my ear,"Take dere money." He pushed me up to the counter as he told them how much they owed.  
  
"Here ya go young lady." One of the men said, handing me his money. The taller man spoke next.  
  
"This is a nice place you and your brother run together." He commented. Racetrack took this a step further.  
  
"We takes pride in our 'ard woik." He said, wrapping his arm around my waist.  
  
"Where'd you get the money to build such a fine place?" The third man asked us. It was my turn to answer.  
  
"We inherited it from our parents." I said sweetly. Racetrack tried to muffle a laugh. All five men stared at him.  
  
"Well, have a nice day." A brown-haired man told us.  
  
"Same ta ya." I had to tell them , because Race was in the back room laughing to death.  
  
Once they had left, I rushed to the back room and collapsed on the floor next to Racetrack. We laughed until we cried, and then laughed some more. The only thing that made us stop was the voice from the store.  
  
"Excuse me, is anyone here?" A woman had entered the store. We tried to regain our composure. It was a difficult task indeed, but somehow we pulled it off.  
  
"Yessiree madam." Racetrack said. "What'll it be?" He asked, taking a drag on his cigar. She look at him in a repulsive manner.  
  
"I am just here to buy my husband something for his birthday. Would you recommend anything?" She asked looking from me to him. I dashed to the storage room and grabbed a box of random cigars. I laughed to myself as Racetrack hacked his brain trying to think of something to say.  
  
"These are da best miss." I told her, throwing the box on the counter. Racetrack looked at me, his eyes laughed. I smiled as she looked at them.  
  
"What kind are they?" She asked my smugly.  
  
"Havana cigars of course." I told her proudly. Racetrack let out a laugh. I would've called it more of a cackle, but either one made the woman give him a horrible look.  
  
"I suppose him'll like them. How much?" I told her the price, and handed them to her. She walked away huffily. I shot Race a glare.  
  
"What was dat for? I asked.  
  
"Those weren't Havana cigars." He laughed at me. I stared at him in disbelief.  
  
"They looked like dat one!" I shouted, pointing at the cigar in his mouth.  
  
"Yeah, but dey taste horrible. You jus' sold dat lady some shit of a cigar! Why do ya tink dey were in da back?" He laughed at me again.  
  
"Alrigh' mister, tell me bout dem eight cigars!" I pointed at the first seven that I laid my eyes on. He studied them for a second and then answered.  
  
"Double Claro is known ta 'ave a greenish tint on its wrapper. It's a light cigar that has had limited aging. Claro typically signifies dat the cigar will be mild. It has a light brown color. Colorado Claro has a wrapper dat is your standard brown color. Slightly stronger thean the Claro, but still considered mild. Maduro, Colorado, and Colorado Maduro have wrappers dat are dark brown an' give off an excellent aroma. Dey are considered medium ta strong cigars. The Oscuro has a black wrapper an' is strong in flavor. Bolivar cigar is not for the beginner; it's distinctively strong flavor an' robust nature draw mostly seasoned Havana aficionados. Dere are 3 kinds of smokers, occasional smoker, daytime smoker, and beginner." He concluded. I stared at him in awe.  
  
"I know more dan ya tought don't I?" He asked me, smiling as he served another customer, who I do believe gave us both a tip when he heard Race ramble on about cigars.  
  
"Ya know a lot I mus' say." I complimented him. He took a huge bow.  
  
"Wow baby! Look at da time. I best be headin' home. I'll catch ya lata. An' remember, don't give nobody da beginner Sancho Panza. It has basically no flavor and tastss like shit!" He said referring to the cigars I had given that lady. "Nice woiking wit ya Milky. Here, 'ave dis." He tossed me his cigar, and pecked me on the cheek and headed out the door.  
  
The moment I popped the cigar in my mouth, the Tabernaks walked in. The scene must've looked awkward to them, because Mrs. Tabernak looked horrified, and confused. It must have been the cigar in my mouth. I read both of their expressions before they could say anything.  
  
"I bought it. I wouldn't steal from ya!" I told them. It wasn't all a lie. I wouldn't steal, and the cigar had been paid for. "I don't find it proper for girls to smoke." Mrs. Tabernak added her two cents. I rolled my eyes. I had tried cigars before. They weren't my favorite thing in the world, but I didn't hate them.  
  
"Well here, go do whatever ya want with it." Mr. Tabernak handed me a crisp dollar bill. There was something I had rarely seen. I rushed out of the store, my cigar hanging from my mouth. I didn't even say thank you to the Tabernaks. I searched the town for Racetrack. He deserved some of the money too. Where did he say was from? I racked my brain for the answer. He hadn't left long ago, he had to be somewhere in the city.  
  
After looking for some time, I finally saw him on the Brooklyn Bridge. He was halfway across, but I knew I could catch him. At least, I hoped I could.  
  
"Racetrack!" I screamed. I was running so hard, the cigar fell out of my mouth. He didn't hear me the first time, I was too far away. I ran faster, and yelled again.  
  
"Racetrack, I've got someting for ya!" It took several more tired and lots of energy before he heard me. He whirled around and looked for whoever was calling his name. I slowed my pace a little bit. He waited until I reached him. I almost collapsed on the spot, the stitch in my side hurt so bad, but somehow held myself up.  
  
"Heah." I handed him the dollar. "Ya deserve it." He hesitantly took it, then handed it back.  
  
"I was jus' doin' if fer kicks." He lied. I looked at him hard.  
  
"Kicks or no kicks, take it." I pushed it into his hand. If it hadn't been for him, I would've made a fool out of myself, and probably wouldn't even have gotten the money. He smiled at me and took it.  
  
"You're a good kid Milky." He smiled again, turned, and walked away.  
  
I watched him go. I didn't expect to see him around here again. Who knew how far away Manhattan was from Brooklyn. I silently walked back across the bridge. It was much bigger when I actually had time to look at it. I didn't know what I would do for the rest of the day. I was debating whether to go to the docks, which was my original plan for the day, or go back to the Tabernaks. Before I knew where my feet were taking me, I heard a lot of splashing and goofing off. I looked up from the ground and saw that I had led myself to the docks. I cursed at myself. I didn't really want to be here when all the newsboys were. I took a seat on a nearby crate, and watched them all jump into the harbor and mess with each other. It was almost entertaining, until Harold came up to me.  
  
"Look what we gots ourselves heah. Lil missy Milkshake is back!" He and his friends all laughed. How did they know my nickname. Only Spot and Racetrack knew that. I ignored his good looks, and looked right at his no good heart. I still had no idea why he picked on me. I just walked in Brooklyn almost a week ago, and I already had these boys on my back.  
  
"Yeahs, what's your problem?" I asked him, staring at him hard.  
  
"Ya 'ave no righ' ta be heah. Howeva, I would be 'appy ta let ya go fer a swim." He smiled a nasty smile. I knew what he was planning. Throwing me in the harbor wouldn't break me, unless he drowned me. Him and his friends walked closer to me, their hands were outstretched. I punched one of them in his stomach, but there was at least 4 more. Their dirty hands grasped my flesh as they hauled me off the crate. I held my breath and awaited the icy blast from the water; it never came.  
  
"Get ya 'ands off da goil." I opened my eyes and looked past my brown hair. I saw Spot Conlon standing behind me.  
  
"Dis is no way ta treat me guest." He said boldly. Instantly, as if my skin burned them, Harold and his friends let go of me.  
  
"Dat's more like it." Spot said.  
  
"Why'd ya wanna guest like dat?" Harold asked as he walked past. Spot didn't flinch, his gaze fixated on me.  
  
"Is dis what ya do in ya spare time?" He asked, motioning with his head in Harold's direction.  
  
"Ya know it." I replied sarcastically." He laughed.  
  
"I would suggest ya choose a different 'obby." He looked at me seriously.  
  
"Harold ain't no hobby o' mine." I tried not to get mad.  
  
"Righ'. Well make yaself at 'ome." "He turned away, his cane clopping along next to him. I had no idea how much at home I would be with Harold breathing down my neck.  
  
~A/N~ alright a few thank you's are in order here....First off, to my dear friend(penname)Vinnie Monfredo. She did the research on the cigar thing, you know when Racetrack starts running his mouth about all those different cigars! Yeah, well that couldn't have been done if Adrianne (Vinnie Monfredo) hadn't done all that research. I suggest you read her stories, they are really awesome! Anyway, I would appreciate all of your reviews and comments, thanks again. Next chappie will be up soon!  
  
Oh, and also I made up the price of the the Havana cigar that Race purchases. I guessed because in the movie, Snipeshooter 'wants' a Havana cigar that cost a quater, so I assume that they cost more than 25 cents! How Racetrack came up with 40 cents, I will never know! Thanks again! 


	4. An Invite

Spot's Milkshake  
  
Chapter Four: An Invite  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Spot or the Newsies, Disney does. I do own the plot and the rest of the characters!  
  
"Heya goily. Know 'ow ta swim?" A taller boy approached me. At first I thought Harold had sent this guy to dump me into the water. It dawned on me that he literally wanted to know if I could swim.  
  
"Yeah's. Why?" I asked suspiciously. He smiled a big smile.  
  
"Wanna come swimmin'? He smiled again. It was incredibly hot out, and I had begun to sweat. As long as it was just a cool, refreshing swim, I reasoned, it would be alright.  
  
"Sure." I watched his eyes gleam as he turned to the rest of the boys that were swimming and jumping into the docks and yelled,"She said yeah!" They all cheered. I laughed. I didn't know that I was such a star. I wondered how I would swim in my tattered dress. I didn't know, and I wasn't about to find out. I bent down and ripped it so it only came down to my knees. The newsboys cheered and cat-called as I did this. I knew what they wanted, but I wasn't about to give it to them. Instead, I gracefully dove into the icy blue water. It felt so good. I emerged and many of the boys held up their fingers, producing a ten or a nine. Before I knew it, I had started an all- out diving contest.  
  
It was almost too funny to watch. Most of the newsies didn't know how to dive. Their pathetic attempts to dive properly made me laugh. Many of their legs curled up and a couple of them did flips into the water. I gave these particular boys a ten.  
  
I was reluctant to dive again. They joked with me, and gave me three's, but I didn't care. In return, I gave them all one's, with an occasional two.  
  
"Wha's dis Milkshake? Only one?" A newsie named Pouncer teased me.  
  
"Don't be such a 'ard critic!" A familiar voice said. I turned around and saw Troy. I was almost too happy to see him.  
  
"Troy!" I pulled myself away from Pouncer, and jumped into Troy's arms, pushing him back into the water. We both emerged laughing, along with the entire Brooklyn docks.  
  
"Wheah ya been all day?" He asked as he pulled me out of the water.  
  
"Around." I replied, watching two more boys jump into the water. Some newsies who weren't swimming took part in judging the divers. It was a very fun afternoon, but it ended too soon. It was dusk and, and it was becoming increasingly hard to see the water. I bid farewello to all of the newsboys. I was going to go back to the Tabernaks, when Troy came up behind me.  
  
"Come wit me." He insisted, dragging me to a nearby alley. It was musty, damp and humid there, and darker then it had been at the docks. I didn't know what to expect.  
  
"So how's ya like Brooklyn so far?" He asked me, pulling me down to the ground next to him.  
  
"So far it's been a blast." I responded quietly. It was hard to keep my heavy eyelids open when it was this hot. I hadn't noticed the heat before, probably because I was in and out of the water.  
  
"Is dere sometink wrong?" He asked, noticing my struggle with my sudden sleepiness.  
  
"Mus' jus' be da heat." I told him. I closed my eyes once more, and felt something press against my lips. I was afraid to open my eyes, so I waited until the feeling was gone. When I did open them, I saw Troy getting up and walking away.  
  
"Night Milkshake." He said softly, yet happily.  
  
I sat there for a few moments, replaying the last two minutes in my mind. I didn't know if I should be happy or confused when I made the conclusion that Troy had just kissed me.  
  
***  
  
I walked into the Tabernaks. My hair was still half wet, and had begun to frizz. Mrs. Tabdernak gasped when she saw me. My dress was ripped entirely off at the knees, and the rest of my clothes stuck to my skin. I smiled a weak smile.  
  
"What in the world happened! You leave for a few hours and you come back half naked!" She looked extremely mad and worried at the same time.  
  
"I'se ain't half naked, me dress jus' got ripped." I tried to explain. She didn't listen.  
  
"You are going to march straight upstairs and get into a change of clothes!" She pointed a bony finger up the staircase.  
  
"Alrigh' already. Don't 'ave a heart attack." I smiled at her. It didn't soften her up as I had hoped it would've.  
  
I dragged myself up the rotting wooden stairs, and rummaged through my things. It wasn't a hard task to find a worn dress, and a white shirt, with dark blue cuffs lacing my hands. I wasn't really hungry, and I didn't want to have to face Mrs. Tabernak, so I laid down on my bed, and drifted into a hazy sleep.  
  
I woke up fairly early the next morning. The Tabernaks weren't even up yet. My stomach reminded me that I had not eaten since breakfast the previous day. It growled loudly, but there was nothing I could do about it. I had no money, and I didn't know where the Tabernaks stashed their food. I wasn't about to wake them up and ask them. Instead, I tried to push it aside as I walked downstairs, and snatched a cigar that was lying on the table. I hadn't really gotten used to the taste of them yet, but I had to start somewhere.  
  
I got to the center of town, and saw some of the newsies gathering. I was surprised at this; I didn't know they got up this early, let alone congregate in the town square. I was going to go to work a different way, one that did not interfere with the newises, when I noticed the I didn't have a match. I had no pockets to look in. Fuming, I didn't notice the newsies that were walking up to me. I heard snickers, as I frantically shoved the cigar in my mouth.  
  
"Did ya need a match?" A newsie named Snicker said, handing me a match. I snatched it out of his hand, and lit my cigar hurriedly.  
  
"Dude, what's your problem?" Pouncher stepped out of the group and approached me.  
  
"Hungry." I spat. It was true, I was starving. What made me more mad was that I couldn't do anything about my hunger.  
  
"Well, well, well. If it ain't da famous Milkshake 'erself. An' look, she brought me a cigar." Spot Conlon appeared out of nowhere. He looked at me with his crystal blue eyes. He walked up to where I stood, his nose almost touching mine. Without a word, he slid the cigar out of my fingers, followed by the match. Silently, he lit the cigar and popped it into his mouth.  
  
"Tanks Brandie." He said smugly. He patted me on the head. I hated that pat. I had thought that Spot was a good guy. He had graciously saved me from Harold just the day, but now he had stolen the cigar that I had stolen. It made no sense at all. I stared after him as he walked away. The rest of the newsies followed him, except Pouncher. He lagged behind with me.  
  
"Did ya 'ear bout dat party down in Manhattan?" He asked me. I looked away from Spot, and turned my eyes to him.  
  
"No. Why?" I asked suspiciously.  
  
"Ya haven't? Dat's strange." He looked at me funny.  
  
"Are ya sayin' dat I'se should've already?" I asked again.  
  
"Well, nah, I ain't sayin' nuttin." He looked at me again, and ran to catch up with the other boys.  
  
I would've stayed glued to that spot to think about what he just told me, but I realized that I needed to get to work. I sprinted to the circulation building, panting as I opened the door.  
  
"50 papes. Brandie you're late again." Randy said, giving me a sideways glance. I rolled my eyes at him. I searched the room for someone to talk to. My gaze instantly fell on Sniff. I rushed over to him, grabbing a stack of papers as I did.  
  
"Hey. How's it goin?" I asked, still panting.  
  
"Pretty good. Nice divin yestaday." He winked at me. "An' how's life been treatin ya?" He asked, giving Randy the 50 papes he had requested.  
  
"Same old. Gots meself a second job. Woiking at da cigar place now." I told him proudly.  
  
"Da usual fer Conlon." Randy shouted.  
  
Little Johnny rushed over a stack of papes to Spot. I avoided his eyes, concentrating on the cigar in his mouth. It seemed to take him longer than usual to leave. When he finally did, I looked up at Sniff. He smiled mischievously as he took Snicker his papes.  
  
"So ya 'eard bout dat party too eh?" I asked him. He smiled again.  
  
"Yeah. I tink I'se is gonna axe Smalls ta go wit me. Unless o' course dat one boy from Manhattan got ta her foist." He blushed a little as Smalls approached the window. "She's da only goil newsie in Brooklyn. An' your da only goil dat 'elps wit da newises." His cheeks became red once more as he took her a heavy stack of papes.  
  
"Wait. Dis, dis party is in Manhattan den?" I asked him.  
  
"Yeah. Irving Hall dis Friday. Medda Larkson is throwin' it. She invited da Manhattan newsies, Brooklyn newsies, and Harlem newsies. She says dat she would've invited more, but she's afraid dat da place won't 'old nobody else." He grinned once more. "Ya goin'?" I thought about this for a moment.  
  
"I can't. Technically I ain't a newsie. You's is, I ain't." I was a little disappointed when he nodded in agreement.  
  
You's can go if a newsies axes ya. I'm sure one o' dem will. I mean, did ya see how's dey acted yesterday when's ya dove inta da 'arbor?" He smiled again. "An' anyways, Troy's got the hotts fer ya." I looked up for the paper I was reading, and stared at him. His eyes gleamed with happiness.  
  
"How'd ya know?" I asked defensively.  
  
"Well, I don't, but c'mon, ain't it obvious?" He asked, looking in Troy's direction. "Too bad he ain't a newsie, or else he would be your one way ticket ta da party."  
  
***  
  
Those words haunted me the rest of the morning. If he was my one way ticket, that meant that I wasn't going. He wasn't invited, so neither was I. I trudged my way to the Tabernaks. I found the store to be really busy. In fact, I could barely get through the door.  
  
"Hey, hey, hey. Get out's of me way. I woik heah. S'cuse me sir." I pushed my way through the crowd. When I finally found my way to the counter, I saw the Tabernak couple hurrying around, trying to fill the customers demands. That meant that they would want me to help. Damn. I had no idea what I was doing.  
  
I tried to creep back to the storage room, or to my room, but Mrs. Tabernak saw me.  
  
"Glad you're here. Could you help?" She asked, gesturing to the long line of people.  
  
"Er, I uh, could I just clean?" I asked desperately. She looked at me. I wished I could've read her mind, but I couldn't.  
  
"I suppose. Yes, I think that would be better." She shooed my away to the storage room. Better? Why would it be better? I tried not to think about that. Instead, I picked up a broom and began sweeping the room. The moment I took one sweeping motion, dust engulfed me. I choked on it. Regaining my composure just in time to hear Mr. Tabernak call for me. He probably wanted me to help him. I tried to think of an excuse to get out of the upcoming request.  
  
"There's a young man here to see you." He stepped out of my way, revealing Spot Conlon, papes slung over one shoulder. I stared at him for a moment, before I realized that he wanted to talk to me somewhere less noisy.  
  
"Oh, ah, come up heah." I hesitantly, yet eagerly pulled him up the stairs to my room. I was ashamed that it was in such a poor state, but my mind raced back to the lodging house. That looked just as clean as my room.  
  
He looked around before he set his papes on a rickety table next to my bed. He seemed to be pondering about what he was to say.  
  
"So, ya 'eard bout dat party at Medda's?" He asked me suddenly. His words were fast and smooth.  
  
"Yea." I replied with no emotion. My insides were squirming with anticipation. Somehow I had kept that curiosity inside myself.  
  
"How's bout you an' me go together. It was more of a statement than a question, but he still waited for my reply. Without thinking, I blurted out an answer.  
  
"I'd love ta!" He smiled as he toyed with his gold-topped cane.  
  
"Great. I'll come by heah afta I sells me papes." He patted the pile of papers. "It's dis Friday, weah someting nice..." He paused and looked down at his feet. He probably thought that he offended me, but he didn't.  
  
"Well, anyways, see ya den." He picked up his papes, walked out the door and down the stairs.  
  
~A/N~ ok....all I have to say is thanks to Vinnie Monfredo for reviewing my story. Not really a long authors note this time! Haha, anyways, hope ya liked it! PLEASE review that always helps....if you do you get a cookie! 


	5. Forever And Always

Spot's Milkshake  
  
Chapter Five: Forever And Always  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Spot or any of the Manhattan newises....I do own the plot, Brandie, Troy, Smalls, Sniff, Snicker, Harold, etc. and any of the Harlem newsies. And like I said I DON'T own ANY of the Manhattan newsies or Spot!  
  
I made sure that he had left before I darted to my closet. It was a small space, with barely any room for my small wardrobe that consisted of 4 outfits. I decided that I would wear a white dress with a pink ribbon around my It didn't look very appealing to me, but it would have to do.  
  
***  
  
The next three days came and went. I braided my hair, and slipped into the outfit I had chosen a few days ago. I looked at myself in my cracked, full- length mirrors. I didn't look half bad. I was still admiring myself when I heard Mrs. Tabernak call me. I hadn't told her about the party, but I had asked for the day off. I think the two of them were happy about my request. They wouldn't have to pay me now, and I'm sure that brightened their day.  
  
I hurried down the stairs. Spot was wearing his usual red suspenders, brown pants and a plaid shirt. His cane was tucked safely in his belt loop, and he had a slingshot on the other side. Mrs. Tabernak looked bewildered. I laughed as Spot escorted me out into the street. Most of the Brooklyn newsies were assembled outside waiting for us. The majority of them had girls with them, but there was a select few that were alone. I scanned the group, and smiled when I saw Sniff with Smalls wrapped in his arms. His green eyes gleamed with pride and happiness.  
  
Spot walked up to the front of the group, and silently began to lead them. I heard the newsies behind us talking quietly. Finally, Spot broke the silence that hung between us.  
  
"Ya eva been ta a party?" He asked quietly.  
  
"I wouldn't call it a party. You?" I turned to face him. His face was very solemn.  
  
"Yea. Medda throws dese tings one an' awhile. Course I can't 'member da las' one, it was so long ago." He continued to look ahead. The chatter from the other newsies was getting louder. I looked over at Spot again. He look like he was decided whether or not to say something. I suddenly remembered that I had a cigar and match in my shoe. I didn't know if it would be useful or not. I bent down and pulled the contents out of my sock. Spot gave me a confused look.  
  
"Heah. Thought ya migh' like it." I handed him the cigar. He took it, still staring at me. Once it was in his mouth, he seemed to be more relaxed. In a matter of minutes, we were both sucked into different conversations. He was talking with Snicker, Pouncher, Stumpy, Itch, and their girls. I was talking with Sniff, Smalls, Harold and his girl Relay. I realized that Harold wasn't such a bad kid. For once he acknowledged me as a human, not dirt under his feet.  
  
"I says ta dem, it's your own fault ya listened ta me!" Smalls was telling us how she had sold some papes to two men. She told them that there was an earthquake in Ohio that had killed thousands. In reality, it was only a tremor that scared four girls. The men had hunted her down and demanded their money back. This conversation lasted until we reached Manhattan. Boys were pouring in from every which way. The noise was at an ear-splitting level. I found Spot right before we entered Irving Hall. It was an amazing sight. Boys and their girls filled the seats and tables. A woman with fiery curly read hair was frantically serving drinks and food to everyone.  
  
Spot and I separated from the group of Brooklyn newsies. He led me to a table that was already full of boys.  
  
"Now da party's really startin'! Conlon's heah!" A boy with a patch over his eye declared. All the heads at the table turned to see us.  
  
"What da we 'ave heah? Conlon's gots himself a goil!" Another boy that sported a red bandana and a cowboy hat said.  
  
"Dat's righ' Jacky-boy. Milkshake, dis is Kid Blink, Mush, David, Crutchy, Boots, Racetrack, and Jack." He introduced me to them. I looked at them all. My eyes rested on Racetrack. I wanted to smile, but I didn't want anyone to see me. I wondered if Race had told them about our day together. It didn't appear so.  
  
"Nice ta meetcha." I said. This time I smiled. Not at Race, but at everyone.  
  
"So, wheah's your goils?" Spot asked them as he took a seat next to Jack. The only seat left was between Spot and Racetrack. I took it.  
  
"Blink's goil is 'round heah somewhere. Mush's goil took off. I tink she's wit our very own Skittery. As fer me, 'er family moved somewheah south. She wasn't me type anyways. Da rest of dem didn't find one." Jack explained.  
  
"Hey, hey, hey. I didn't bring one cause I don't want em ta hold me back. Da night is young boys." Racetrack announced, lighting a cigar and pulling a deck of cards out of his back pocket.  
  
"Ya tink goils 'old ya down?" I asked him. He looked startled that I was questioning him.  
  
"Most goils do. Dey don't like me gamblin' or smokin' or sometink like dat." He said, his voice rising. "What's wrong wit gamblin'?" I asked, trying to calm him down.  
  
"Dat's a good question. Maybe ya can axe da odda goils round heah." He wasn't calming down, nor was he acting like the Racetrack I had met at the beginning of the week. Well, two could play at this game.  
  
"Da night is young boys." I said, taking Racetrack's cigar out of his mouth and placing it in my own. I leaned back in my chair and admired the stunned faces around me.  
  
"I spect you'll be playin' den?" He asked me, shuffling the cards in his hand.  
  
"I would prefer ta watch da master." I smiled at him smugly. He looked rather pleased at my last statement. He dealt the cards to everyone at the table except me. I had lied right through my teeth. Well, kinda. I wasn't going to play myself, instead I looked at Spot's cards and helped him along. He didn't need the help, but accepted it anyway.  
  
After a few more rounds of poker, Medda called everyone to attention. The lights dimmed, and the spotlight was now on her. Soft, sweet sounding music began to play as she started to sing.  
  
Bows and flows of angel hair  
  
And ice cream castles in the air  
  
And feather canyons everywhere, I've looked at clouds that way  
  
But now they only block the sun  
  
They rain and snow of everyone  
  
So many things I would've done, but clouds got in my way.  
  
She continued to sing. Blink's girl rejoinedhim, swaying to the music. I felt Spot slip his arm around my waist, pulling me close. I rested my head on his shoulder. I didn't know why I was attracted to him, but I was.  
  
Medda ended her song, and began another one. I wasn't really listening, because a 'waiter' had just brought the table some drinks. I took one, but didn't drink it. Instead and I placed it down on the table and tried to listen to Medda as she started the chorus of her song.  
  
"Let's make toasts ta each odda." Crutchy suggested.  
  
"Like what?" Mush asked, hushing his voice as Medda reached a quiet part in her song.  
  
"Well I dunno, I thought it was a good idea." He smiled.  
  
"Alrigh' a toast ta me and me gamblin' life." Race whispered, raising his glass The rest of us slowly raised ours. I decided to turn his selfish toast on him.  
  
"May it be lousy and put ya in debt." I raised my glass even higher, and clashed it with his. The rest of the table followed my lead, and began clanging their glasses with Race's, then with each other. At first Racetrack stared at us in disbelief, but soon joined in with us.  
  
By the time Medda finished her song, the boys had gone through 3 glasses a piece. I think all 3 of the girls, including myself, at the table notice the change in their behavior.  
  
Racetrack seemed to be ok, but the rest were acting a little strange.  
  
"They aren't drunk, are they?" Kid Blink's girl, Ashley asked me.  
  
"Uh, I wouldn't know." I said sarcastically. I had seen many drunk people in my time. I was definitely heading to that conclusion.  
  
"Well are they?" She asked me seriously.  
  
"I would say that they qualify." I chewed nervously on my cigar. Spot couldn't be drunk, I didn't know how to get back to Brooklyn exactly. I silently slid Spot's drink away from him. Jack's too. Ashley did the same for Blink and Mush. Boots had only had a little, and took Crutchy's drink from him. No one took Race's from him, but he didn't seem so bad. Luckily, they hadn't had enough to make them drunk for the entire night. By the time Medda allowed everyone to dance, they were sober enough to.  
  
Spot's icy hand took mine and lead me onto the dance floor. Medda's voice once more echoed in the hall. Hundreds of newsies got out of their chairs and started to dance slowly.  
  
Every now and then  
  
We find a special friend  
  
That never lets us down  
  
Who understands it all  
  
Reaches out each time you fall  
  
You're the best friend that I've found  
  
I know you can't stay  
  
But part of you will never ever go away  
  
You're heart will stay  
  
I'll make a wish for you  
  
And hope it will come true  
  
That life would just be kind  
  
To such a gentle mind  
  
And if you lose your way  
  
Think back on yesterday  
  
Remember me this way  
  
I could hear some of the other newsies sing along with her. I wish that I would've known the words, but I didn't. I had never heard the song before.  
  
"'Ave ya heard dis song before?" I whispered.  
  
"Somewheah I'm sure." He replied. "Will ya remember me dis way?"His words were soft and caring, full of love.  
  
"Foreva an' always." I answered, leaning my head on his chest. I could feel his chest rise and fall whenever he took a breath. The next few moments flew by much too quickly. Medda ended her song, and we all had to sit back down for more card games, and more drinks. I was uncomfortable with this.  
  
This was the rest of the party as far as I was concerned. The poker games were fun to watch and occasionally play, but I was more worried about the drinking that Medda allowed. I had to admit, I had a few sips of the stuff myself, and savored every last drop of it. But I had been drunk before, and I hated it. I felt like I was trapped in my mind and my senses. I did things I did not wish to do. At one point it felt wonderful, but that had lasted only a few hours. I did not want that again.  
  
"Must ya drink so much?" I asked Spot.  
  
"I haven't been drinkin' dat much." He said. His speech was slurred. Kid Blink's girl had left him. Probably because she didn't approve of him drinking. I love the taste of the drinks, but I controlled myself. I knew that they were boys and that they don't always have much self-control, but I still worried. I had only ever been around one drunk boy in my life. It was not pleasant. That boy was now in jail, not a good memory to think about when Spot was getting drunker by the second.  
  
"Damn it Racetrack. Make him stop." I leaned over and stared at Race's cards. "Nuttin's wrong wit drinkin'. Ya said so yourself doll face." He smiled, pulling his cards out of my view.  
  
"I know what I said, but I've been 'round drunk guys before. Believe it ain't fun. Help." I pleaded with him. For once, he looked at me with compassion. It was almost as he felt some sort of pity for me.  
  
"Look Milky, I don't know whatcha gonna do wit 'im. All I can suggest is dat ya take 'im and yourself ta da lodging 'ouse fer da nigh' an' sleep dere till he's sober again." He looked away from me and focused his attention on his cards. I nervously looked around. Some boys were leaving with there girls. They were probably heading home, or going to scout the city. This was the perfect time to leave, unfortunately, I somehow had to convince Spot that it was time to go home. In a good sense, and in a bad sense, my job was taken care of for me. Spot had fainted from too much alcohol. The rest of the boys saw no significance to this. They continued to laugh and to play poker. Race was the only one who seemed sober enough to realize that I was leaving with Spot.  
  
"Uh, great party, tanks fer invitin' us. We enjoyed it." I pulled Spot out of his chair and dragged him to the door. Racetrack waved to me, laughing merrily. I flashed him a fake smile. Why couldn't he be more help?  
  
When I got outside, Spot was coming to. I almost wished he hadn't. It was going to be harder to take him to the lodging house now. The bigger problem was that I had no idea where this lodging house was.  
  
"Something wrong?" I heard a voice ask me. Smalls was sitting on a bench just outside Irving Hall and had seen me dragging Spot.  
  
"Not really." I fibbed.  
  
"Is he ok? Can I do anything to 'elp?" She tried again.  
  
"Yeah. Wheah's da lodging 'ouse? Would ya know?" I hoped to God that she did. It was sprinkling now. I cursed under my breath.  
  
"Yeah, I've been dere once. It's done dat road, den take a left." She stopped and stared at Spot as he moaned in my arms. "Why don't I jus' take ya dere?" She offered, beginning to walk in the direction she claimed the lodging house was. It was raining harder now. I could barely see her now, the rain was so thick. Spot was regaining conscious quickly. I knew that he would want to back to the hall, but I couldn't let him.  
  
"Smalls! Wheah are ya? Smalls!" I yelled into the rain. My voice was inaudible to myself, I wondered if she heard me.  
  
"Jus' keep walkin', it's righ' up heah!" I heard her faintly call back.  
  
I continued to walk, it was becoming increasingly hard though, the rain was fogging my vision, and Spot was not an easy thing to drag in the wet streets.  
  
"Damn it Conlon!" I swore. He stirred at the sound of my voice.  
  
"Hey, wheah is I?" He asked. So he could talk now. That was just great.  
  
"Move your feet!" I shouted at him. It was easier now, he was walking. He asked no more questions, instead he was trying hard to walk in a straight line.  
  
Smalls had waited for us to catch up. She grabbed Spot's other arm and helped me guide him through the door of the lodging house. We passed an elderly man, and walked up the rotting wooden steps.  
  
"Which bed?" I panted. There was so many.  
  
"Ya really wanna put 'im in a bed? Dis is Spot we're talkin bout. Ya never seen 'im drunk 'ave ya? Let's try da sick room. Don't worry it ain't contaminated." She smiled at me.  
  
"Sure." I replied, looking around. It looked slightly different from the Brooklyn lodging house that I had seen briefly. This was much cleaner, that was for sure. It also was a little smaller than the one in Brooklyn.  
  
Smalls led us both to a small room on the east side of the building. It had a foul odor to it. There were two beds, on which we put Spot. He had fallen out of conscious again.  
  
"You'll stay wit 'im righ'?" She asked, looking concerned.  
  
"I 'pose I will." I answered uncertainly. Hadn't she just told me that we should put him in here because he was a drunken Spot Conlon? It made no sense, but I decided that if he slept all night, then it would be alright.  
  
"Take care den. I'll try ta bring ya some blankets or sometink." She said, noticing our damp clothes.  
  
"Tanks." I called after her.  
  
I walked over the far corner, furthest from Spot. He continued to lay there, harmless. I sat there remembering the fun times that I had at the party. The Manhattan boys seemed to be a nice bunch of boys. I must've fallen asleep, because when I opened my eyes to see sunlight streaking through the window. Racetrack was sitting on the bed.  
  
"Wheah's Spot?" I asked groggily.  
  
"So you're finally up? He's downstairs wit da rest o' dem." He looked just as tired as I was.  
  
"'ow long as he been up?" I continued to ask.  
  
"An hour or two. Look, I'm starvin', let's see wha' dey cam up wit fer breakfast."  
  
When we arrived downstairs, I stared greedily at all the food they had. Medda had give them all the left overs.  
  
"Dere's Miss Mornin' Face 'erself." Jack Kelly greeted me.  
  
"Glad ta see you're feisty today." I replied. I think they all noticed that I was still sore about last night.  
  
"C'mon ova heah an' get sometink ta eat." Blink invited.  
  
"Wish I could stay all day, but I'm afraid I can't." I said coldly.  
  
"Give us, some o' dat an' we'll be headin' 'ome." Spot backed me up. He emerged from the crowd of boys holding four pieces of bread. He looked fine to me. You'd have never guessed that he had been drunk last night.  
  
"Either he don't 'ave a hangover, or he jus' knows 'ow ta cover it up." Race whispered in my ear. Spot flashed him a dirty look. He backed away from me instantly.  
  
"Take care Conlon, Mornin' Face." Jack called after us as we walked out the door.  
  
~A/N~ thanks to any reviewers that I may have.....it really does mean a lot to me and I can't thank you enough! The next chapter will be up soon! Cookies for everyone! 


	6. The Name's Brandie Foster Gotta Problem

Spot's Milkshake  
  
Chapter Six: The Name's Brandie Foster Gotta Problem  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Spot or the Newsies. I do own the plot though!  
  
Go review Learning to Live you won't regret it! Go now..shoo! Then come back here!  
  
The silence that hung over us was unbearable. I wanted to spit out my feelings about last night, but held them in for a couple more minutes. Finally, I couldn't hold them in.  
  
"What were ya playin' at las' night?" I spat. He didn't answer me right away. It took him awhile before he said anything.  
  
"Look, I feel bad bout' wha' happened las' nigh'. Ya should've jus' left me dere all nigh'." He looked at me, and handed me a piece of bread. I took it, looking away from him.  
  
"Well now ya owe me." I grinned playfully at him.  
  
"No. I tink we are even now." He paused. "I saved your sorry ass from Harold earlier dis week." This time it was his turn to grin at me. I tried to muster a smile, but I couldn't.  
  
"So what brings ya ta New York?" He asked me.  
  
"Is it really your business?" I asked.  
  
"I 'pose it ain't. I'm just curious. Is dat a crime." He wanted to know.  
  
"It could be."  
  
"Could ya jus' tell me?" He stopped walking and looked me in the eye.  
  
"Alrigh'. I used ta live in New Jersey. I came heah searchin' fer a new life." I started walking again, he followed.  
  
"So dat's it? Ya jus' came heah?" He persisted.  
  
"Yeah. I jus' came heah. Got a problem wit dat?" I spat again.  
  
"No." He didn't ask any more questions.  
  
"I spect you've lived heah fer eva den?" I started to ask him questions.  
  
"Yep." I wished he would've said more. It was my fault that he didn't. I had been a little bit too cruel to him, but honestly, he deserved it all.  
  
"Gotta cigar on ya?" He broke the silence that we had fallen victim of once more.  
  
"Wish I did." The silence came back again. It was killing me. I wanted to apologize, only to make him talk again. I couldn't though. He deserved everything that I had said to him. I missed his voice. I remembered the dances last night. How heavenly they had been. I didn't know if it was love, or just a thing of the moment.  
  
We didn't talk for the majority of the walk back. That put my sprits down quite a bit.  
  
"'ave fun las' nigh'?" He finally asked me.  
  
"Absolutely. Every las' bit o' it." For the first time that day I smiled at him.  
  
"Even da part wheah ya 'ad ta drag me through da pourin' rain?" He asked knowingly.  
  
"Even dat part was ok." I laughed. "Though I would neva do it again."  
  
"Ya neva know wit me." He winked.  
  
It was dusk by the time we got back to Brooklyn.  
  
"Spot's back!" I heard someone shout. He didn't seem phased by the outburst, yet I looked around for the source of the noise. It had come from a boy that I didn't know.  
  
"See, dey can't do nuttin without me." He whispered to me. At lease 5 boys came over to us, full of questions.  
  
"Wheah ya been all day?" Harold started.  
  
"I stayed wit Jack." He answered him.  
  
"Yeah, well, dat goil's parents 'ave been askin' fer 'er." He looked at me. I was taken aback at this statement.  
  
"My parents? Ya mus' be outta your mind! Dey can't be lookin' fer me." He cut me off before I could finish.  
  
"Well dey 'ave been. Dere old an' dey don't seem like dey can be your parents." He looked confused at my expression. I could feel my face relax a little.  
  
"Da Tabernak's ain't me parents, tank God. I was beginning ta tink dat dere was such a ting as ghosts." I smiled at their bewildered faces. "Wheah are dey?" I asked.  
  
"Somewheah ova dere." He pointed in the opposite direction of where we were standing.  
  
"Betta get goin' and straighten whateva it is dey need straightened out." I turned to face Spot. His eyes were full of understanding. I knew that he didn't want me to leave. I almost wanted him to hug me, and when he didn't I almost hugged him. Instead I held those feelings inside, and thanked him.  
  
"Tanks Spot, las' night was fun." To my surprise, I got the hug that I had been waiting for. When he released me, I turned and went looking for the Tabernak's.  
  
I found them by the pub. They were asking people where I was, if they knew me, and who I was with. I walked up behind a frazzled Debbie Tabernak, and tapped her on the shoulder.  
  
"I'm righ' heah." I smiled inside myself. I knew I was in a heap of trouble, but the look on her face was priceless.  
  
"Where were you young lady?" She half screamed.  
  
"Manhattan." I replied, trying to suppress my laugh.  
  
"What in the world were you doing–MANHATTAN!" She shrieked. It would've been funnier if I had been allowed to laugh freely. "Did you walk there? By yourself?" She demanded.  
  
"Yes, and no. I did walk dere, but, not by meself. I had my friends wit me." I didn't want to give away any names.  
  
"Well at least you're ok." She regained her composure. She must've realized that the entire pub was now staring at her. "We'll talk at home." She stated. It was no home to me. I hated the smell of it, and the Tabernak's watchful eye.  
  
The moment she turned her back, I waved to everyone in the pub. I only did this to show them that she didn't scare me. Her yelling out in public had no affect on me. I thought the whole thing was hilarious. We were only half way back to the store, when she burst out.  
  
"Manhattan? I didn't think you would do such a thing. But then again." She stopped herself. This angered me.  
  
"But den again what?" I demanded.  
  
"Nothing." She said hurriedly.  
  
"Is it dat my name is Brandie Foster?" I stared at her. My very soul burned with a fire that I had never felt before.  
  
"No. It's not you–  
  
I cut her off. "Den wha' is it? Did I give ya a bad impression or sometink? You're not tellin' me sometink." I screamed. People were beginning to stare, but I didn't care. She did. She took me by the arm and pulled me inside the cigar store. I looked out of the corner of my eye, and saw Spot staring wildly at me. The store was closed for the night, so I wouldn't have the pleasure of embarrassing her in front of her customers.  
  
"It's not you Brandie." She stopped herself again.  
  
"Say it den. I don't care, jus' say it!" I yelled.  
  
"Your family!" She said, crying. "Your history Brandie. I know it's not your fault, but I was worried because of that fact." She sat down, crying hysterically.  
  
"Why were ya worried? Did ya tink dey were gonna come back an' get me? Dere isn't anyone left who would come get me!" I yelled again. Her tears made me even angrier.  
  
"It's what they did. Don't you see. You were raised up in the wrong environment." She tried to explain. I didn't want her to.  
  
"Dey raised me fer 5 lousy years! Five! Nuttin more, nuttin less. I know dat dey made bad decisions in dere day. Get ova it woman, I did!" I was starting to cry myself. "I've been through more dan you eva will be. Leave me alone!" I ran out the door, and around the corner. I fell to the ground and cried. I didn't hear the door open again. That meant she wasn't coming to get me. Good, I didn't want her to. I did hear footsteps though. They sounding like they were running. The person who came around the corner surprised me.  
  
"Spot?"  
  
"Are you alrigh'? I saw ya outside yellin' like dere was no tomorrow." He produced a small smile.  
  
"I'm fine." I lied. He knew better.  
  
"Wha's wrong wit ur name?" He asked. He must've heard what I was yelling. "I tink Brandie Foster is a beautiful name." He bent down next to me, so we were level. He leaned closer to me. The warmth of his touch was soothing. His lips softly touched mine. It was a heavenly moment. I never wanted it to end, but all wonderful moments ended too soon. He pulled away from me and looked into my eyes. I knew at that moment that I loved Spot Conlon, and nothing could change that.  
  
"Brandie, come here, we need to talk." I heard Mrs. Tabernak call out. She didn't seem angry, but I didn't want to listen to her.  
  
"I don't wanna talk ta dat bastard." I told Spot. "Ya don't hafta. Come heah." He helped me up and led me to the back of the alley. He sat down and motioned for me to do what he did.  
  
"Ok pretend dat we are makin' out or sometink, den if she comes lookin' in heah I'll jus' tell 'er ta leave us alone. It's so dark in heah she won't know it's you!" He smiled at his ingenious plan.  
  
"Dere's only one problem." I grinned.  
  
"What?" He asked, puzzled.  
  
"Why pretend we are makin' out?" I grinned again. He returned it. Almost instantly, he pressed his lips against mine. She never did come, but we sat there for half the night, kissing.  
  
When we did stop, it was way past midnight. I knew that the Tabernaks would not be happy if I came in this late. Instead, I followed Spot to the lodging house, hand in hand. I didn't have to ask if I could stay there for the night. I knew that he would let me.  
  
Everyone was sleeping when we got there. I silently walked into the clubroom. I didn't expect Spot to follow me, but he did.  
  
"Wudda ya doin' in heah?" He whispered.  
  
"Sleepin'." I thought the room was cozier then the one at the Tabernaks, besides, I didn't expect to be invited upstairs with him.  
  
"I thought ya were goin' sleep up dere." He pointed upwards.  
  
"I could if ya like." He smiled at me.  
  
The steps creaked underneath us as we walked upstairs. He opened a white door that was smudged with fingerprints. Inside revealed many bunk beds that I had seen before. Most were full with sleeping newsies, some of which I recognized. Other beds were empty. These boys had probably fallen asleep on the streets, or were in another room. Spot walked over to the bed on the far right side of the room. He collapsed on it.  
  
"Boy am I tired." He said, falling back onto a single pillow. I strode across the room and plopped down next to him. He smiled one more time before he closed his eyes. I feel asleep on his chest, and waited to see what the dawn would bring.  
  
***  
  
"Lookie heah boys, now we know why Conlon was gone all day yesterday!" I was woken by Harold Devirea and the snickers of several boys. I wearily open my eyes.  
  
"Wudda ya talkin' bout?" Spot asked fiercely. "Isn't it obvious? Look at cha! Look at wha' ya let in ya bed!" He pointed at me, his eyes mocked me. I decided right then that Harold had two sides to him. A nice side which he had sported yesterday, and a terrible mean one which he had now.  
  
"I don't see anyting in yours." Spot observed.  
  
"I'se has got dignity." Harold roared.  
  
"Maybe so, but I gots more." Spot said. He had won that argument. Harold walked away, shaking his head.  
  
"I'se gotta make more money." I muttered.  
  
"Why?" Spot asked me.  
  
"So I can find meself my own place ta live." I replied  
  
"Ya can always live heah, till ya wanna go back." He looked away from me, and looked into a mirror.  
  
"Quit admirin' yaself." I teased. I could see him roll his eyes at me.  
  
"Take down yer 'air." He told me.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"It'll be all coily, since it's been braided." He turned around and smiled.  
  
"Fine, leave da room though." I motioned towards the door. He gave me a quizzical look, but left anyways. I laughed.  
  
I let my brown hair fall around my face. It was a good feeling letting down my hair.  
  
"I love when ya do dat." I heard Spot's voice from behind the door. He had been watching through a crack all along.  
  
"Get outta heah. I said, chasing him away.  
  
I returned to the mirror, and picked up a brush that I found lying there. I began to to comb out the knots and tangles, but all the while trying to keep it curly. In my frustration, I started to hum quietly. The humming soon turned to words. Finally, I gave up. It was Sunday anyway, so there was nothing to do. I walked to the door, only to find Spot sitting behind it.  
  
"'ow long 'ave ya been dere?" I raged.  
  
"Long nough ta hear ya." He grinned. Embarrassment came over me. I felt my cheeks flush. His smile dissipated instantly.  
  
"I wasn't makin' fun o' ya. I thought ta was good." He praised me.  
  
"Wateva. Let's get sometink ta eat." I felt ashamed that he had heard me. I had always like my voice, but for some reason I didn't want others to like it. I didn't want anyone to hear it, ever again.  
  
The bread that they offered me was extremely stale. I ate it graciously though. As hungry as I was I almost didn't matter.  
  
"So, uh, wha' happened las' nigh' between you an' da old lady?" A boy leaned across the table and asked me.  
  
"She was, er, well, she was tellin' me dat I wasn't good nough fer her." I quickly said. It was true. She didn't exactly say those words, but I knew that she had been thinking it. Anyone who knew my family thought that about me. They thought I was just like them. Well, newsflash, I am not like them.  
  
"Wha' she say bout yer name? Dat's all I 'eard ya talkin' bout." Spot asked me, struggling to bite into the hard bread. I pondered on this a moment. I didn't want to tell them the truth, but if they ever figured it out, they would label me as a liar. That was the last thing I wanted now.  
  
"Nuttin. I asked her why she didn't trust me. My name jus' got mentioned." I wanted the conversation to end right then and there. It wasn't going to, but Snicker said something before Harold could.  
  
"Well, I'se is gonna try ta go ta choich again. I'm gonna try ta understand it fer once!" Snicker sighed. "It's all I can do ya know. Me sister always wanted me ta loin bout dat Christ stuff." He sighed again, getting up from the table, he adjusted his hat and walked out the door.  
  
"I've neva been ta choich before." I stated, twisting some of my hair in my fingers.  
  
"Ya don' wanna go. It's all confusin' an' dey all love each odda. Makes me sick." Harold told me, making a face that made him look constipated.  
  
"Well I'm curious. I'm gonna check it out." I stood up, leaving half of my bread sitting on my plate.  
  
The air was cool and breezy when I stepped outside. I thought about how wonderful it would be to live in the lodging house. The only problem was, all of my clothes and few belongings that I owned were at the Tabernaks. I had no idea how I was going to get them without having to face them.  
  
"Yo, wait up." I turned around and say Spot run up next to me. I had no idea why he was following me. He hadn't seemed interesting in the whole church idea at breakfast.  
  
"Ya really wanna go ta choich?" I asked. It made no sense to me. He slid his hand through his hair, then placed his hat on.  
  
"I guess it wouldn't hoit or anyting." He looked uncertain.  
  
"Look, if it's gonna ruin yer reputation or anyting, don' come." I really wanted to be alone now, but if I was going to have company, the best person would be Spot.  
  
"Hey! Who eva said it was gonna ruin me rep?" He defended himself.  
  
"No one. It's jus' I would have neva imagined da migh'y Spot Conlon goin' ta choich." I smiled at him. He looked even more uncertain when I said this. "Don' come den. I can tell ya don' wanna. It wouldn't hoit me feelin's." I reassured him.  
  
"Nah, it's not dat, it's jus' uh, I've got sometink ta do now." He sauntered off, leaving me alone.  
  
I hope you all enjoyed it! I can't wait...I've always wanted to write about a church scene I don't think it's gonna be that big though :( but oh well you'll get over it! Oh, and for the last chappie, the two songs were in order:  
  
Both Sides Now By: Joni Mitchell  
  
Remember Me This Way From: Casper with Bill Pullman (HAHA! Denton is in Casper I laughed so hard.....) 


	7. Murder He Wrote

Spot's Milkshake  
  
Chapter Seven: Murder He Wrote  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Newsies, Disney does. I do own Brandie and Harold, Troy, and all of the Brooklyn newsies...EXCEPT Spot! And Smalls, that is Vinnie Monfredo's!  
  
Check out her story it's awesome!  
  
The church looked very old. Most of the shingles had fallen off the roof, or were in the process of falling off. The white paint was chipping off, and the grass in the lawn was dead. The flowers that surrounded the church were wilted, and had lost their color. The sight of the church almost made me turn back, but I pushed myself through the doors, and took a seat in the last pew. The entire church was packed with people. I felt out of place, but tried to focus on the pastor who was making his way to the front of the church. His robes were ragged, and his bible was worn.  
  
I had never seen a bible, just heard of one. I guessed that the book he held in his hand was just that, a bible. The entire church rose when he reached the front, except me. I quickly followed their lead. No one noticed my error, which I was thankful for.  
  
They sat down at almost the exact time I stood up. Would these people make up their minds? I sat down right away. Again no one looked at me. This place confused me right from the start. The priest raised up his hands, and the congregation took hold of hymn books. I took one also.  
  
"Please turn to page 354." The priest told the church. I did, But by the time I found the right page, they were halfway through the song. I hated this so far. I thought I was supposed to sit in the back and listen to this guy preach about a guy name Jesus. No one said anything about singing or standing up and sitting down.  
  
After a few more songs, which I always came in on the middle part, we put away the hymn books and the preacher finally started doing his job. He started talking about Mary, the mother of Jesus. He was going on and on about how much confusion she must've felt when she was parenting Jesus and when he was in her womb.  
  
It had no affect on me whatsoever. To me, this was a huge mistake coming to church. It was taking up my entire morning for no reason. These people hadn't noticed my mistakes earlier, I wondered if they would notice me if I got up and left. I doubted it. They were all concentrating on the priest, hanging on his every word. I was in the back row, and I'm sure noone would mind.I quietly got out of my seat and tiptoed out. When I looked behind me, I saw the priest looking at me, but he continued to preach. It was wonderful to be outside again. The church had been too crowded and had been too hot.  
  
"Ya go ta choich?" I heard a voice ask. I looked around to make sure I was the only one the voice was talking to. Troy was standing behind me.  
  
"As of now, no." I answered. I felt uneasy around him now. After what happened in the alley by the docks, and then with Spot, and the party, nothing felt right with him.  
  
"I didn't see ya Friday nigh'. I was gonna axe ya ta dinner." He smiled. "Wheah was ya?"  
  
"I went to down to Manhattan." I said shyly. I hoped he wouldn't figure out what that meant, but he did.  
  
"Ya went down ta dat stupid party?" He asked, but I knew he already knew the answer. He look angry.  
  
"It wasn't stupid. I had fun." I defended.  
  
"Ya must've gone wit someone." He hinted.  
  
"Yeah." I replied. He had a murderous glare in his eyes. It frightened me.  
  
"Who?" He took a step closer to me, smiling an evil smile. I had never seen him like this before.  
  
"Someone." I told him. I didn't want to tell him the truth.  
  
"Tell me who." He insisted, backing me against the church wall.  
  
"I did! I went with someone." I held back my tears, but my voice cracked and I was shaking like mad.  
  
"I won't hoit ya." He said, sensing my fear. "Jus' tell me." He told me. I swallowed, and took a deep breath.  
  
"Spot Conlon." I squeaked. The words had barely left my lips when it happened. Troy smiled once more, though this time it had a horrible smirk to it.  
  
"Tanks, that's all I needed ta know." He backed away from me, and walked off.  
  
I was still shaking when I got back to the lodging house. There was a poker game going on in the clubroom. I would've watched them play, but I was still in shock. I walked up the stairs that seemed never ending. No one was in the bunk room, thank goodness. I didn't want to talk now, I just wanted to sleep or something to get my mind off of Troy.  
  
In a matter of moments, I drifted off to sleep. It only seemed like a few minutes, but it was the dead of night when I was woken by a muffled shriek. I heard a unpleasant familiar voice laughing and telling someone that they deserved death. I whirled around and saw two figures. One was struggling out of the clutches of the other one. I had to rub my eyes to make sure that I had seen what I thought I saw.  
  
Troy was sitting there, laughing. He was choking another boy. I couldn't tell who it was, but I had a sickening feeling. I leaped from my bed and ran over to him, and his struggling victim.  
  
"Troy let go of him!" I shouted. He stopped for only a moment and looked at me.  
  
"It's for our own good." He responded, returning to the boy.  
  
I still couldn't tell who it was, but Troy was suffocating him, and I couldn't let him do that. I saw Spot's gold-tipped cane on the ground. It was the only way I could think of that would stop him. I bent down and picked it up. It was freezing cold because it had been on the ground. I swung it at his head and connected. Troy released the boy and fell to the ground.  
  
I rushed to Troy's victim. He was struggling for breath and cursing at the same time. I gasped when I realized it was Spot. He began to massage his throat.  
  
"Lemme at dat bastard, lemme at 'im!" Spot gasped.  
  
"Shut up and rest!" I shouted back. He stared at me and obeyed. Muttering to himself, he leaned against the pillow. I knew he would not sleep. Within seconds he sat back up. He kicked Troy in the small of his back. Troy was out cold by now.  
  
"Wha' da hell was dat about?" He asked me.  
  
"How would I know? Ya ok?" I sat down next to him.  
  
"I'm as great as I could be. I mean I was almost murdered. He pisses me off." He continued to massage his neck. I suddenly realized why Troy wanted to know who I went to the party with.  
  
"It's all my fault, I'm sorry." I muttered. I explained to him what had happened outside the church. I didn't leave out any details.  
  
"We'll see wha' he has ta say tomorrow. Me boys'll be ready fer him." Spot said through gritted teeth. I looked down at Troy. Was Spot just going to keep him here all night? What if he came to? Would he try the same thing? My thoughts were interrupted when Spot stood up and walked out the door.  
  
"Wheah are ya goin'?" I scampered after him. He didn't answer me. He walked into the clubroom, where most of the boys were sleeping. "Who let dat maniac in heah!" He demanded, slamming his cane against the ground. They jumped up out of their trances. Each looking confused. Some were bold enough to whisper to each other the infamous question, whose the maniac?  
  
"C'mon! Da one dat jus' tried ta kill me! Who let 'im in?" He raised his voice even louder.  
  
"We's was sleepin' nobody let nobody in." Harold defended them.  
  
"Sleepin'? I can forgive ya fer dat, but da doors were locked. I locked before I went ta bed. Explain 'ow he got in." He had lowered his voice to a yelling level.  
  
"Yo Conlon, check dis out." Snicker called from the other room. We all filed into the room Snicker was in, and stared in horror at what he had found.  
  
Shards of glass lay everywhere. Instantly the utter silence turned into whispers. Troy had obviously broken through, but why hadn't anyone heard it? That was a question everyone chose to keep to themselves. Spot stood solemnly over the glass, still massaging his throat. I could still see Troy's fingerprints imprinted on his neck. I winced, thinking about how I had contributed to the incident.  
  
"Make sure he don't leave dis 'ouse. He'll be payin' tomorrow." Spot said menacingly.  
  
"No." I said. He whirled around and glared at me. "Don't harm a hair on his head!" By this time the entire lodging house was staring at me in shock.  
  
"We can jus' go ta da bulls an' report 'im fer attempted moidah." I shuddered at the word. It brought back too many memories.  
  
I could see heads nodding in agreement. Others though, did not agree, or did not understand.  
  
"Look, he could go ta jail fer dis. If he goes ta court wit bruises, den we could get in trouble, or dey could jus' say dat we're even cause we beat 'im up. See wha' I mean?" I explained. More heads nodded, except Spots. He looked thoughtfully at me.  
  
"So wha' you're sayin' is dat we leave dis kid alone, an' in return fer our patience wit 'im, he goes ta jail.  
  
"Sure." I wasn't entirely sure what he was saying, but I knew enough to answer him.  
  
"I'll tink bout it. Righ' now I jus' wanna wring his neck." He made motions with his hands.  
  
"How longs it gonna take? He's up dere righ' now!" No one else seemed to be worrying about this small detail.  
  
"I know dat. Why don't ya go up dere an' pretend nuttin happened. In da meantime, I'll decide wha' ta do." He looked back at the broken window, shaking his head.  
  
Slowly, I walked back to the room. I gasped when I saw Troy sitting on one of the beds. He looked up as I walked in the door.  
  
"Wheah am I?" He asked rubbing his head.  
  
"My room." It wasn't a lie. This was my new home, therefore it was my room. He didn't know that, so I wasn't really giving away where he really was.  
  
"How in da woild did I get heah? I was headin' fer da lodging 'ouse an'.." He trailed off, realizing where he was. He stood up and dashed for the door. I chased after him, beating him by half a second.  
  
"Stop. You're drunk. You don't know wha' you're doin'" I tried to reason with him. He wouldn't listen. With a single push of his arm he shoved me out of his way.  
  
"Spot! Spot, he's comin'!" I screamed as loud as I could. Troy heard me first and clambered back up the stairs. I could hear the Brooklyn boys running downstairs, but they were too late, Troy reached me first.  
  
"You're on dere side? Dis was all fer you." He looked shocked and angry at the same time. He grabbed my shoulders and began to shake me.  
  
"I don't ya to." I sobbed. He slapped me across the face right as the Brooklyn boys bounded up the steps.  
  
"Tha's it! Spot bellowed. He rushed up and slugged Troy across the face. Troy punched him back, sending the Brooklyn leader backward. This sparked a fist-fight between Troy and the newsies. I made no attempt to stop them. It was rather satisfying to watch Troy being hit repeatedly.  
  
When they finally did stop, Troy was covered in cuts and bruises. A few boys were battered, but for the most part everyone was ok. Spot was looking most victorious, along with the rest of the group. It was a wonderful site, but I still felt a little upset about the whole thing. Thinking about it, it was a close encounter with death.  
  
"Ya ok?" Snicker asked me.  
  
"Fine. Uh, I'm just gonna get some fresh air." I slid past him and walked down the stairs, and out the door. I don't know how far I walked, but before I knew it, I found myself in Manhattan once more standing outside of Irving Hall. The hall was isolate. No lights were on, and no one was in there.  
  
"Hello? I know ya don't I?" I turned around and saw Kid Blink standing behind me. "Da boys will be happy you're back!" He grabbed my hand and pulled me towards Tibby's.  
  
~A/N~ Wow! Hope you all liked it! Thanks to all my reviewers..I got a couple more!  
  
Vinnie Monfredo- Thanks sooo much for all of your support and all of your comments and reviews! *hands u that cookie you wanted* Hope you like the chapter I look forward to more of your reviews!  
  
Tiggerbaby2430- Thanks BUNCHES for your review! You get a cookie just cause you reviewed for the first time! I hope you liked this chapter, I reviewed your story..can't wait for more! Thanks again  
  
Pyro- Do you have any stories that I could review for you? Anyway thanks sooo much for your review. You get a cookie for reviewing for the first time too! I hope you continue to read this story and I hope that review more! Thanks soo much (again!)  
  
Thanks again you guys you are awesome! The next chapter should be up soon! Hope you liked this one, in the meantime... READ VINNIE MONFREDO'S STORY! IT ROCKS MY SOCKS! ( ok so it doesn't 'rock my socks...' but it is awesome so READ IT!) 


	8. Manhattan To The Rescue

Spot's Milkshake  
  
Chapter Eight: Manhattan To The Rescue!  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Newsies, I only own the plot, Troy and Brandie, and Brandie's parents!  
  
"Lookie heah at wha' I found." He grinned the widest grin I had ever seen. All heads turned to me. I contemplated whether I should tell them about what happened an hour ago. Before I could decide, a question popped in my head.  
  
"Wait a second, wha' are you guys doin' at Tibby's dis late at nigh'? I asked.  
  
"Open ta newsies." Mush grinned.  
  
"Da real question is, wha' are ya doin' heah?" Race piped in. He didn't look too happy to see me.  
  
"It jus' happened. I went outside fer some fresh air, an' heah I am." I knew it didn't sound believable. They all stared at me. I drew in a deep breath, preparing to tell them.  
  
"Dere was an attempted moidah tanight."(tonight) I paused. Some mouths fell open, and I could hear whispers.  
  
"Give us da details Mornin' Face." Jack looked rather excited to hear them.  
  
"I don't tell wha' I don't know." I retorted. "Boy named Troy broke through da window. Crept upstairs an' started ta choke an' suffocate anudder boy. I clubbed 'im ova da 'ead wit Spot's cane. Dat knocked 'im out fer awhile. He came to, an' well, a fight broke out, now I'm heah." There were bits and pieces I left out, but they didn't need to know all of that.  
  
"Who was da victim?" Jack asked, smiling, hoping for a big headline, I'm sure.  
  
"Calm down Kelly. Look, dere was nuttin Spot could do, he was jus' sleepin' an' den boom...." Jack cut me off.  
  
"Spot Conlon?" He jumped out of his seat, yelling. "Spot Conlon, da fearless leadah o' Brooklyn? Who in dere righ' mind would try sumtink like dat? He messes with Spot, he messes wit us!" Jack strode to the door, the rest of the Manhattan newsies followed. I knew I shouldn't have told them.  
  
"Stop! You're not supposed ta get involved!" It was no use, Jack kept walking faster every second. "Since when is Spot your best bud?" I demanded. I had no idea why I asked this question, but if they were as close as Jack perceived them, why hadn't Spot mentioned him more often. He didn't answer me. I don't even know if he heard me, I'm almost glad he didn't.  
  
When we approached the Brooklyn Bridge, I got nervous. I didn't know how Spot would take this, I mean, almost every Manhattan newsie was coming to help with something that they shouldn't be helping with. I doubted if he really wanted everyone in the world to know about his little incident. I tugged on Jack's sleeve to get his attention.  
  
"Don't make a big deal bout it, ok?" I pleaded with him. He looked at me, his eyes were filled with anger. I knew that this disturbed him greatly, but, but, I didn't care anymore. I would let Jack do whatever he felt it was necessary to do. With every step, we got closer to the lodging house. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Race staring at me. There was a cold stare in his eye, that I couldn't figure out.  
  
The group of Brooklyn newsies were talking at a small wooden table. Troy was tied and gagged in the corner of the room, struggling against his bonds. Spot looked up as Jack threw open the doors.  
  
"Well, well, well, wha's dis? A midnight snack?" Spot asked, looking Jack up and down.  
  
"Ya call it dat. Actually, I hoid an 'SOS.' Save our Spot." Jack smirked. Spot's smiled faded into a frown. Just what I had feared, he didn't look too happy.  
  
"Look, I don't know wheah ya hoid, and frankly I don't care, but dat's your man." Spot pointed to the corner where Troy was. "Make it good Jacky-boy." Jack focused his attention to that particular corner.  
  
"Nice ta meet cha." He held out his hand, waiting for Troy to shake it. "Not da friendly type I see." Jack withdrew his had, pretending not to notice Troy's restraints. "I suggest you hightail it outta dis city. No. Outta all o' New York, period." Jack spat in his face. I looked over my over my shoulder at the Manhattan newsies. All seemed amused. Next, I glanced over at Spot. His eyes were filled with laughter, and his face expressed pure joy.  
  
"Got anyting ta say fer yaself?" Jack asked. I didn't expect him to take off Troy's gag, but he did. The room was overcome with a hush as Troy spoke.  
  
"You're dead Kelly." He struggled to free himself, but failed miserably.  
  
"Don't talk to my friend dat way." I slapped him across the face.  
  
"I ain't ya friend?" He asked, shocked and disappointed.  
  
"To hell wit ya!" I shouted, retreating to Spot's side. Troy looked hurt and betrayed. Deep down I had felt sorry for him, but after what he attempted, any pity I had felt for him quickly disappeared. Troy was gagged once more, and forgotten in moments.  
  
"I'm assuming you're stayin' heah tonight?" Spot asked Kid Blink.  
  
"I s'pose so. Too late ta go back ain't it?" He looked out the broken window at the blackened sky. "Ya might wanna fix dat." He smiled a toothy smile.  
  
"How do ya reckon I do dat? We barely make money now. I know it was las' summer, but dat act of stupidity dat Jacky-boy pulled off really killed us.  
  
"Not sellin' too good huh?" Mush asked teasingly.  
  
"I doubt dat. Nobody buys em' no more. Da headlines suck, an' dere's less an' less people dat wanna buy em'. But we get by jus' fine. Or at least we did before dat buffoon screwed it all up." He indicated towards Troy, who had given up on escaping.  
  
"I ain't havin' dat problem. Is Conlon losin' his touch?" Jack joked.  
  
"Neva in a million years Cowboy." Spot retorted.  
  
I was laying on Spot's lap, and out of the corner of my eye, I could see Troy glaring at me. Out of nowhere, an idea sparked in my mind.  
  
"Anyone wanna help me? I asked, breaking the blissful silence.  
  
"With what?" Skittery asked me.  
  
"Well, my stuff is over at Tabernak Cigars. I kinda need it."  
  
"An' ya can't get it yaself?" Race asked coldly. I tried to ignore his rudeness.  
  
"Well, ya see, me n' dem are in a disagreement. I ain't jus' gonna walk righ' in dere an' say, 'I want me stuff.' She'll wanna talk, an' I don't wanna listen to gibberish."  
  
"I'm in. Wha' do we gotta do?" Snicker asked. I smiled my appreciation.  
  
"Tomorrow, I jus' need someone ta distract da rents, an' me an' somebody else will get my stuff outta my room."  
  
"I'll help too." Mush declared. "I'll distract dem."  
  
"Fer awhile. Make sure dey don't see me n' Snicker."  
  
"I'll go too." Racetrack spoke again. "Me n' Mush can ask da mister all bout his cigars. Den we need someone ta occupy da miss. I was thinkin' Smalls could do dat." He concluded. I hadn't even noticed that she came in. She looked startled, but agreed.  
  
"Well, I'm gonna turn in now." Pouncher announced to the group. Everyone agreed that it was best to do so as well.  
  
"Will ya show em' wheah dey can stay?" Itch asked me, pointing to the Manhattan newsies.  
  
"I guess I could." I didn't exactly know where I was going to put them, but I managed to find a room that fit them. They were all swished together, but that's what they would get if they wanted to stay.  
  
*** I couldn't sleep. Too many things were on my mind. I stood up and walked down to the clubroom. I was startled to see Spot sitting at the table.  
  
"You ain't sleepin'?" I asked him. He turned around quickly, I must've startled him too.  
  
"Jus' thinkin" He said quietly. "If it wasn't fer you, I'd be dead. I felt like a helpless baby. I had no idea dat he was dere. My senses gave up, leaving me vulnerable. I couldn't stop 'im. He had my arms trapped, an' he was by my head, so me legs were useless." He hung his head. "No need to feel ashamed. It's not like ya cried." My voice trailed off. His words came back to me. 'I felt like a helpless baby.' Most of my childhood flashed before me. I'm not the emotional type, but tears welled up in my eyes. I tried to push them away, but the word 'helpless' kept them there.  
  
I did not bother to try to stop them anymore, they just kept flowing.  
  
"Wha's da mattah?" Spot asked me, as I collapsed into the chair next to him.  
  
"Everything. This life, this world." My voice trailed off again as a new rush of tears burst through my eyes.  
  
"Wha's your story?" He asked suddenly. He continued to stare straight, into what I don't know.  
  
I hesitated. I cared about him, but I didn't want to tell my past. I had never told anyone about anything that has ever happened to me. I dried my eyes, and looked at him.  
  
"Well, it all started when I was born."  
  
~flashback~  
  
"Would ya just feed the brat? I'm busy tonight." My mother's sweet, yet dreaded voice echoed through the poor excuse of a house. I was tow, but she thought I had no clue what she was saying. I knew. I knew that I was a mistake. I doubted that mama and papa really liked each other.  
  
"There's nuttin fer 'er ta 'ave!" My drunken father shouted back to my slutty mom. "'ere kid, 'ave dis." He handed me my first alcoholic beverage. Two years old, and I was holding beer in my fragile hands. He laughed as I spat it out the minute it hit my tongue.  
  
"Wheah ya tink your goin'?" He turned to my mom. While she lied about her destination, I poured the acrid drink on the floor. Unfortunately, this saved my mom's butt.  
  
"Look what your daughter did!" She exclaimed in her southern accent. He spun around and faced me. I watched as mother snuck out the door.  
  
"Ya wasted it! Can anyone be more stupid? Who pours beer on the floor? A 6 month old is smarter than you!"  
  
~end flashback~  
  
"I was used to it." I finished. I felt the tears streaking down my face once more. I didn't dare look at Spot. Instead I continued my tale. "That wasn't the worst."  
  
~flashback~  
  
"I know about ya! How could cha? Don't ya care bout Brandie?" My father raged. He shoved my mother against the wall, and slapped her across the face. I cowered behind our couch. He wasn't drunk, but he was acting like it. Something had to be wrong. What could've provoked him to act this way if it wasn't beer? I heard the word 'prostitute' more than once.  
  
"How can ya live knowing wha' you've done?" He screamed at her.  
  
"I'm livin' jus' fine!" She yelled back. Big mistake. An instant later, there was absolute silence. "Gonna shoot me?" She taunted. I peeked out from my hiding spot. The image was forever engraved in my mind. My father was pointing his gun at my mother. Pure fear was painted on her face. I ducked away just in time. A single gun shot. A ear-splitting scream. Laughter. My father was laughing. Now at five, I already know the seriousness of murder.  
  
"Oh Brandie. Come out heah. Daddy want ya fer jus' a minute." I stayed frozen in place. My muscles refused to move. Even if they could move, I doubted they would.  
  
The next few moments were a blur. He ran around the house, throwing things against the wall, looking for me. For soma random quirk he didn't look behind the couch. Instead he ran into the streets yelling for me. It took me awhile to muster up the courage to come out. When I did, I stared in horror as I saw my mother, lying dead in her own blood.  
  
She had never really showed that she loved me, but those few tender moments appeared in my mind. She had soothed me when I had a bad dream once. Once. But that meant the world to me. Another time, she seemed to care that I was burning up with a fever. She even went to buy me medicine once. She had only told me that she loved me a few times throughout my five-year-old life.  
  
"I love you mama." I sobbed, crying over her dead body.  
  
~end flashback~  
  
By the time I finished, I was heaving with sobs. Spot was hugging me, whispering words of comfort.  
  
"He's out dere den?" Spot looked me in the eye.  
  
"As far as I know." I managed through my tears.  
  
"Damn." I heard him mutter.  
  
~A/N~ I hope you all liked this chapter. Please tell me if you cried during either one of the flashbacks, I did while I was writing it. The part where she said "I love you mama." That made me cry. And I wrote it. Haha! Well thanks to my reviewers, the next chapter is coming soon! PLEASE read and review Vinnie Monfredo's story! It's really good, and she deserves more reviews! GO NOW! Well wait, review this chappie first ;)  
  
Oceanrain- Thanks sooo much for reviewing my story. I do have more then 7 reviews now! I hope you liked this story..Oh and a cookie for you since you are a new reviewer!  
  
Tiggerbaby2430- thanks for coming back to review. Yeah, Troy is really scaring! I have some vague idea what his problem is, but I can safely say that he is NOT mental! I hope you liked this chapter!  
  
Vinnie Monfredo- Welcome back gurlie! My original reviewer! Wonderful! When are you going to update your story? Yeah...I wouldn't say that Troy is sexy, but I do envision him as a cutie. He just has a problem with jealousy! You get the reviewer cookie this chapter!  
  
Pyro- Thankies sooooo much for coming back! I hope you enjoyed this chapter, tell me what you think! 


	9. To The Racetrack With Racetrack!

Spot's Milkshake  
  
Chapter Nine: To the Racetrack with Racetrack!  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own newsies, Disney does..of course I wish I owned it......I do own the plot, Troy, Sniff, Snicker, Brandie, and well, Smalls...That is Vinnie Monfredo's character though!  
  
I woke up in the clubroom. A few boys were wandering in.  
  
"Time ta sell. Up, up, up wit cha. Sellin' time!" Jack Kelly walked in.  
  
"Shud up." I muttered.  
  
"Betta get up fer woik." He taunted. "I'm headin' out. See ya." He announced, walking into the streets.  
  
Wearily, I got up, and combed my hair with my fingers. Most of the Manhattan newsies had left with Jack, but others like Racetrack and Mush stayed behind.  
  
Spot had let Troy go, but swore that he was going to go to court. I walked with the newsies to the distribution office. Troy was already there, along with the oblivious Johnny. Sniff and I were the last to arrive.  
  
"50 papes." Randy yelled.  
  
"It's too early." I griped.  
  
"You know it." Sniff said uneasy. I knew he was trying to ignore Troy as much as I was.  
  
"Yo Brandie! Meet me by Tabernaks." Smalls called to me through the window. I nodded in understanding. I took the papers to Randy, and awaited another order.  
  
The morning slipped by slowly. It seemed to take eternity before Randy announced that the last newsie had bought his paper. I didn't even bother cleaning up. Instead, I rushed out and ran to find Smalls.  
  
"Wha's up? I said meet me by Tabernaks." She looked at me, shouting out the headline.  
  
"I ain't gonna stand dere. Dey could see me." I playfully slapped her forehead.  
  
"Righ. Well heah. Take dese, and sell em'. Keep da profits." She laughed as she handed me half of the stack of newspapers. "Den meet me dere. Shouldn't take ya long ta sell those." She winked, as she walked off hawking the headlines. I looked down at the headline. 'Fire in Warehouse.' I didn't think I had to improve any truth now, but I could anyway. Wait. What was I thinking? I wasn't a newsie, I shouldn't be thinking like this. Oh well, I was, and I liked it.  
  
"Fire kills all factory workers!" I shouted. No one came. I saw Racetrack selling at least 3 at a time. They were bombarding him. I walked over to him.  
  
"Wha's your trick?" I asked, handing a little girl a pape in exchange for a penny.  
  
"No trick, da public loves me." He smiled. This was the Racetrack I knew. I smiled back, glad to have my old friend back. Once the cloud of buyers left, he turned to me hesitantly.  
  
"Sometink up your pants?" I asked. It looked like there was something in his pants the way his face looked. I almost laughed out loud.  
  
"Nuttin's up me pants." He forced a smile. "No, I uh, I wanted ta tell ya sometink. I, um, well I, I hoid ya las' nigh' talkin' ta Spot." He looked away, ashamed. I stood there in shock. I didn't even want to tell Spot, yet I did, and now, now he knew. At first I didn't know what to say.  
  
"Dat's a touchy subject, don't bring it up again. Kay?" That's I could say. I don't know why, but I felt betrayed. I knew it wasn't his fault, but why didn't he walk away? He just had to keep listening didn't he?  
  
"Look, I didn't have to tell you. But I felt that it would be better if I got it off my chest." He looked at me.  
  
"Ya don't hafta feel sorry fer me are anyting!" I stomped off. I had just got him back, and now I was losing him again. Nothing ever stayed consistent.  
  
"Milkshake! I don't feel sorry fer ya. You're not da only one wit a rocky past. Gimme those." He took the papes out of my arms, and went off to sell them. I didn't care. Instead, I walked to the alley by Tabernak cigars. Mush was selling there and greeted me.  
  
"Hey. Lemme finish up heah."  
  
"Shuddup." I said. He looked taken aback, but asked no questions. Within the next half hour, Snicker, Smalls, and Racetrack showed up.  
  
"Let's make dis quick. Da races start in a couple o' hours." Racetrack stated.  
  
"I don't wanna hang around heah dat long." I retorted. "Wha's da plan?" Smalls asked, looking at me. "You, Mush and Race gotta distract da two o' dem. I was tinking, Mush an' Race could talk ta da mister bout cigars, an' Smalls, you could talk ta da misses bout sewing or someting." Smalls scrunched up her nose at the idea.  
  
"I'd rather talk bout da cigar ting." She complained.  
  
"Alright." I agreed. I thought for a few minutes. "Ok. Race and Smalls can talk bout cigars. Mush, you ask Mrs. Tabernak about wha' goils like. Pretend ya is axing some pretty goil out." I winked at him.  
  
"Whateva." He didn't seem thrilled about his new job.  
  
So on we went, into the horrid cigar shop. Once again Race looked fascinated with the joint. I regretted that I wasn't the one that would give him his Havana cigar.  
  
Mush got Mrs. Tabernak's attention, she looked rather pleased to help him. He gave us the ok sign as she took him in the back room is talk with him. I felt sorry for him. Who knew how long her lectures could be. Now it was time for Smalls and Race to get him distracted.  
  
"May I help ya two." Mr. Tabernak asked.  
  
"We'se was jus' lookin' round. Me cousin heah is sick." Racetrack started, nodding to Smalls, who faked a cough. "We'se is only gonna be heah fer a few minutes." I doubted that he wanted this 'illness' to be the distraction, but it was.  
  
"Sick? I think my wife has an antidote fer a bad cough. C'mon back heah." He lead them to the back room, where Mush was. This was our chance.  
  
"Right up da stairs." I whispered to Snicker. We opened the door, and scurried up the stairs. "Not much stuff ta worry bout, but I needed the change o' clothes." I grinned, looking down at the clothes I had worn to the party on Friday.  
  
"No problem. Never been heah before, let alone in one of da bedrooms." He winked at me. I showed him around the pathetic place. I showed him my mothers music box, and where I kept my small wardrobe. We were gathering up my clothes and few possessions that I owned when it happened.  
  
"Let me just get something for you sweetie." I heard Mrs. Tabernaks voice getting closer, her footsteps coming up the steps. "It's the cutest music box you've ever seen." She said to Mush. My heart froze. She was coming for my music box. I didn't know whether to slide it out from under the bed that me and Snicker were hiding under now.  
  
"No, uh, I don't think she likes music boxes." I heard Mush call up desperately.  
  
"No honey, it's really alright. It's not like it was anything special." She called back down to him. That was the last straw. There was no way I was sliding it out to her. Snicker thought otherwise.  
  
"Do it. Mush'll give it back ta ya." He urged me. He did have a point. Reluctantly, I slid it out just as she walked in the door.  
  
"That's odd. I wonder why it's on the floor." She was talking to herself. Luckily, she didn't notice that my closet was empty, or that the bed had been stripped of its sheets.  
  
Once I was sure that she was gone, I crawled out from under the bed, Snicker followed. I peered over the banister. Mr. Tabernak was back at the counter talking with Racetrack. Mrs. Tabernak was showing Mush how the music box worked.  
  
"Did they forget about us?" I whispered irritably to Snicker.  
  
"They might've, but Smalls is still on task." He whispered back. I looked to where Smalls was standing, tugging on Race's shirt, trying to tell him that we were ready.  
  
"May I see that one cigar dat ya 'ad in da back room?" Racetrack asked suddenly. Mr. Tabernak had a questioning expression on his face. I knew Race was lying, but it was working. "Can I jus' show ya wha' I mean?" He asked.  
  
"Why not?" Mr. Tabernak took him back to the storage room. Now all we had to worry about was Mrs. Tabernak.  
  
"She looks slow, whadda ya say we jus' run fer it." Snicker proposed, a wide grin spread across his face.  
  
"Why not?" I quoted Mr. Tabernak.  
  
"On the count of three. One..two....three!" Snicker said. We bolted down the stairs and out the door. I heard Mrs. Tabernak yelling something at us, though I couldn't make out what she said. I laughed. I looked behind me and saw Smalls and Mush running out too. I stopped halfway in the street.  
  
"Race!" I shouted. Nothing. "Racetrack!" Still nothing. Smalls and Mush caught up with us, and stopped too.  
  
"You don't think they kept him do you?" Smalls asked in a worried tone.  
  
The minutes passed slowly. Then, out of nowhere, Racetrack Higgins burst out of the doors, running at breakneck speed. He ran right past us, to where noone knew.  
  
"Let's jus' take my stuff back." I said.  
  
Noone talked about the close call we just had. There was only question on everyone's minds; would the Tabernaks call the bulls? I doubted they would.  
  
"Mission accomplished!" Snicker announced as we all returned to the lodging house. Mush handed me my music box, and helped me take my things up to the bed that had been given to me.  
  
"Tanks fer da 'elp." I gave him a hug and watched as he went down the stairs.  
  
Just as I was about to leave myself, I noticed Racetrack sitting on one of the top bunks. I wondered why he wasn't at his precious races. I was going to ask him, but I didn't know if he was mad at me, or what Mr. Tabernak had said to him, or accused him of.  
  
"Da races start soon." I told him. I felt foolish telling him that. I'm sure he was counting the minutes until he could leave.  
  
"Wanna come wit me?" He turned around smiling. I could feel my face lighten. His face beamed with happiness as I nodded. "Betta hurry, our ride will be heah soon." He grinned mischievously.  
  
"We ain't walkin'?" I asked.  
  
"Walk dere? If ya wanna miss it we could. Now hurry, who knows how we'll get dere. I pick a ride up in Manhattan, but dis is Brooklyn, I'll do me best."  
  
Once we were out in the streets, he began to look for a carriage that would take us to the races.  
  
"Sir, wheah would dis heah horse be takin' ya taday?" Racetrack asked a man standing next to a carriage.  
  
"It would be takin' me wheah I wanna go." He retorted. He didn't seem interested in talking to us.  
  
"How's bout I give ya sometink, in return fer da use of your carriage an' horse." Race offered.  
  
"Something like wha'?" The man seemed interesting now.  
  
"All me winning's at da races taday. Hows dat sound?" He grinned.  
  
"Dat sounds alrigh'." The man agreed. He must've known that Racetrack was good at this.  
  
"Tank ya sir." Race hopped into the seat and grabbed the reins.  
  
"Ya know how ta drive dese tings?" I asked him nervously.  
  
"Sure. I mean, one time I did." He smiled sheepishly. "If we die, I'm gonna kill you." I stated. He laughed again, slapping the reins against the horse's back. The horse burst into a run, almost smashing into a fruit stand. I started to wonder if he knew where he was going from here. He did. It seemed to take hours before we arrived. His driving was sloppy I must admit, but it got us there with no bruises, breaks, or scratches.  
  
"Ok, hope it ain't too crowded or anytink." He took me by the hand and lead me through the mass of people. I was beginning to doubt a lot of things I did anymore. I thought we were never going to find the track itself. Race kept stopping to talk to people and kept making bets. Where did he get all of this money? Unless he saved it up and then went on a gambling spree, but I doubted he could restrain himself from betting so much. Maybe he was just that good that he won so much that he could just go back and gamble some more.  
  
"When are dese races gonna start?" I asked impatiently.  
  
"Soon, betta go get a seat fer ya."  
  
"Me? And you righ'?" I asked.  
  
"Nah. I neva sit down. Can't eva see dat way." He told me, maneuvering his way to an empty seat.  
  
"Well if ya can't see why should I sit down?"  
  
"I dunno, thought ya would be comfortable." He smiled again.  
  
His attention then turned to the race that was starting. The horses ran out of the gate. It looked to me that they were all going to run into each other and kill their riders.  
  
"Hurry up number 7!" Race screamed. "Knock 'im ova! Faster, faster!" Number seven must have been Race's horse that he bet with. As of now, it was in 3rd place. Close to the second and first place horses as they rounded the 3 turn, coming down the straightaway.  
  
"Does dat mean dat he ain't gonna win?" I shouted to Racetrack.  
  
"No. He will. He has ta. I've got loads of money on 'im!" It didn't really answer my question, but I cheered for the number seven horse as it caught up with the two leaders as they came down the homestretch. I wondered what would happen to Race if this horse didn't win? I doubted that he had bet all of his money, but what if he had?  
  
It was a battle between the first 3 horses. They were nose to nose to nose. The suspense was horrible. Racetrack was ready to jump up and down, like he had known all along that number 7 had won. The judges took a look at the photo finish and declared horse number seven, Cigar, the winner. Before I knew it, Race was dragging me along so he could collect his winnings. I was happy for him. He was certainly richer than he was before. Then I remembered the man who had given us the carriage. All of Race's money would go to him. This changed my mood instantly. I tried not to show it in front of him.  
  
"Let's get outta heah." He said, pulling me by the arm once again.  
  
Once we were back in the carriage, it was getting dark out. I decided this was the best time to ask him.  
  
"Whatcha gonna do wit it?"  
  
"Dis? Keep it safe an' sound." He patted his pocket.  
  
"An' dat guy?" I hinted, trying to spark his memory.  
  
"Dat guy can take a hike. Dis is me money and nobody gets it. He loses. I'll take ya back ta ol' Spotty boy an' den I'll be headin' home meself." He focused on the road again, leaving me to think about what he just said. Spotty boy? I swore that I detected some jealousy, but I decided to ignore it.  
  
~A/N~ Another chapter done and up! Hope you all enjoyed it! Please review it helps! EVERYONE REVIEW VINNIE MONFREDO'S STORY! ITS REALLY AWESOME!  
  
Pyro- Thanks for coming back yet again! I'm glad you liked the story. I need to make those flashbacks sadder so you cry ;) haha! Hope you like this chapter! Next one will be up soon! I think it gets interesting!  
  
Tiggerbaby- Hey gurlie! Thanks for reviewing! You get a cookie since you cried for it LoL! Don't make that a habit young lady :) Hope you like this one!  
  
Vinnie Monfredo- Back for another round I see! I'm glad you cried last time! I will not rest until someone reviews your story! THEY MUST THEY MUST! Hurry with your story though..dumb brain blocks (hehe) it will pass...I know it! Hope you enjoyed this! 


	10. Childhood Memories

Spot's Milkshake

Chapter Ten: Childhood Memories

Disclaimer: I don't own newsies, nor the characters. I do however own Brandie and other miscellaneous characters that pop up! Enjoy! 

(Wow....chapter 10! Amazing....) 

  


Racetrack took me to the Brooklyn lodging house and then left, taking him and the carriage to Manhattan. Most of the boys were filing in now, done with the days work. 

"Long day?" Harold asked me, plopping down in a chair next to me, drinking something he got from the pub. 

"Not really. Why?" I wondered why this jerk was talking to me. But he was being nice, so I couldn't argue with that. 

"It wasn't? We'se all thought ya was wit Spot all day. He claims dat he was goin' ta court or sometink." Harold studied me hard, like he was looking for any trace of a lie in my face. 

"Well, Troy was at woik. Anyway, ya tink dere gonna listen to 'im?" I asked. 

"I dunno. Spot could convince dem ta listen to 'im. I dunno if dey would or not. He has no proof dat it eva happened. Da window don't count." He looked upset about this. This distressed me as well. Troy could try it again, and might succeed. "Don't pout. Spot will put dat creep in his rightful place. Wit or witout da courts help. Since you ain't got any info, I'll be leavin' ya alone." He stood up and walked away. 

My stomach growled, reminding me that I hadn't eaten in awhile. 

"Man am I hungry." I said, hoping someone would hear me. Snicker did, although he didn't offer me food like I thought he would. 

"How'd ya like ta play a classic game of bullshit?" He asked me smiling. 

"Might as well." I replied, depressed that he wasn't offering food.

"Gotta make a contribution foist missy." Sniff said playfully, holding out his hand, waiting for money. My dress had no pockets, so I conveniently put any money I had in my shoe. Reluctantly I bent down and pulled out two nickels. 

"Jackpot!" Pouncher exclaimed as he put a nickel in the pot. 

"Ya know all the rules den?" Snicker asked.

"Yep. Jus' deal." I commanded, sitting down next to Harold and Sniff. 

"Ace of Spades starts it." Harold stated. A boy a named Squirt had it, and placed it on the table. By the time it got to me, Harold had called bullshit on everyone. I had to lay down a six, but only had a queen, two aces, a three, and 3 twos. Keeping a straight face, I laid down my queen and awaited the words. Nothing. Sniff laid down 3 sevens and Harold cried out bullshit. 

"Wow. Hold da phone. Why didn't cha call dat on me?" I asked. 

"Goils don't lie. Not even in dis game." He smirked as Squirt laid down an eight. "Bullshit!" Harold yelled. 

"Not today." Squirt said, pushing the pile of cards to Harold. 

"Well guess wha'? I did lie. Don't underestimate me." I laughed as Pouncher laid down two nines. Harold didn't notice. 

"I don't underestimate you, you whore!" He screamed placing down 3 tens. 

"Bullshit." I accused, lifting up the cards to reveal a ten, six, and a king. I smiled smugly at him, pushing the pile over to him. For the rest of the game, he didn't really accuse anyone of lying accept me. I ended up losing, Sniff won. I didn't care, I felt like I had put Harold in his place. 

"I'm goin' ta bed." I announced, backing away from the table as Pouncher began to deal again. 

"See ya in da mornin" Sniff told me, smiling as he looked at his cards. 

Silently I walked up the steps to my bed. I don't know how long it took me to fall asleep, but I awoke later that night to someone stroking their hand through my hair. I rolled over and saw Spot sitting behind me. 

"It's kinda late fer ya don't cha tink?" I said sarcastically, still half asleep. 

"Not tonight it ain't. Go back ta sleep now." He told me. I almost did, but then I remembered what Harold had said. 

"Wait. Ya went ta court?" I never knew if Harold was lying to me or not. 

"Yeah. Dey was reluctant, but dey said dat dey would send 'im ta da refuge fer 3 months. I told em it wasn't enough time, but dey refused ta do more. Supposedly dey is takin' 'im tonight, or tomorrow morning." He told me, his voice sounding triumphant. 

"Dat's good news." I said, laying my head back down on the pillow. 

"Are you doin anyting tomorrow?" He whispered in my ear. 

"Ich denke so nicht." I responded. 

"Wha?" He asked, confused. 

"I don't think so." 

"Tha's not whatcha said though." He defended.

"Didn't I?" I tried to recall what I did say. "I'm sorry. It's German. I had some very good friends that taught me it. Anyway, when I'm not thinking it jus' slips out. I said quickly. 

"S'ok. Anyway da Cowboy wants me an' you down at Tibby's tomorrow." He smiled to himself, hoping I wouldn't see. 

"Why?" I asked, now fully awake. 

"He didn't say. Not dat it mattahs. Fer once in me life, I actually wanna leave Brooklyn." With that he got up and went up to the top bunk, which he had claimed was his ever since Troy had tried to kill him. I had been denying it ever since that night, but deep down I knew that the mighty Spot Conlon was fearing for his own life. 

***

"What an unusually pleasant mornin!" Harold announced, jolting me out of a blissful sleep. 

"Leave it fer lata." I heard Pouncher mutter as he rolled over in his bed. 

"I don't tink so pretty boy." Harold laughed, slapping Pouncher over the head. 

"How was it?" Spot asked him, patting him on the back. Harold regarded him. 

"Fine. But dat doesn't make dis an usually pleasant mornin." He smiled satisfyingly. 

"Wha does?" Pouncher asked, rising from his bed with no pants on. 

"I'm poisoned!" I cried sarcastically. 

"Not yet ya ain't." Harold challenged, undoing his own pants. 

"Whoa. Not in front of me goil heah." Spot stood in between me and Harold. "Wha' does make dis mornin' so wonderful?" 

"I hoid dat a certain Troy was taken ta da refuge las' night." 

"Was he really? I thought dat da judge was jus' feedin' me bull." Spot looked even more triumphant than last night. 

"Fer 'ow long? Do ya know?" Pouncher asked, pants now on. 

"Dey told me 3 months." Spot shrugged his shoulders. I silently took a change of clothes and walked to the bathroom. 

"Come back out heah Milky! Don't be shy." Harold called out to me. I smiled to myself, but continued walking to the bathroom. _Maybe another day. _I thought to myself. 

After I had finished changing, I followed the boys down to the streets outside. They all walked over to some nuns who were giving out food. It looked that the nuns were only giving out their food to newsies. I pretended that I too was a girl newsie like Smalls was. They fell for it. They put a small piece of bread in my outstretched hand, and gave me a small glass half full of water. I quickly guzzled down that water, and scarfed down the bread. I doubted that it was enough for the entire day, but I would just have to make due. 

"Troy ain't comin ta woik no more!" Johnny told Sniff and I happily, as we walked into the distribution center. Sniff smiled over at me as the gates opened, letting the newsies pour in. 

"50 papes!" Randy yelled. I hated when he did that, but knew that I would be hearing it for a long time. 

"Sniff, do ya tink I could do wha ya do? Ya know do dis, den go out an' sell like dem?" I pointed to the newsies buying their papes. 

"Sure." He shrugged. "I mean, I don't tink ya gotta do anyting ta be a newsie, but really I dunno." He said, taking the papers over to Randy. 

"Do ya know why Troy ain't heah?" Johnny continued the conversation he had tried to start earlier. 

"No. An' I doubt ya do?" I asked him. 

"Nope. I was jus' hopin' someone does." He seemed disappointed. 

"Nah. He was just a bad kid." I laughed half-heartedly. The words 'bad kid' stuck in my head. I tried to push the on-coming memory out of my head, but couldn't. 

~Flashback~ 

_It was just 3 weeks after my mothers death and my fathers disappearance. I was wandering the streets as I had been doing for 5 days, then I had lost track. A girl about my age approached me. She told me she had seen me and had been watching me for some time. She told me she had food and if I wanted some I could have some. She instructed me to follow her. I did. She led me down a dark alley and took me to a makeshift hut. She walked inside, I followed. _

_"My name is Annalise." She told me, lighting a match that lit the small room. She had light, blonde hair that hung to her shoulders._ _I noticed a small boy sitting next to her. He seemed taken down by life even though he was only 5 years old. "This is my brother Archie. He's a year younger than me. Say hello Archie." _ _She instructed him. _

_"Hallo." I heard him mutter. _

_"That's hello in German." She explained quickly. "For real Arch. The English way." She prompted him_. 

_"Hello." He said, even quieter than the first time. "Was ist ihr Name?" I heard him whisper to her. _

_"He wants to know your name?" She translated. _

_"Brandie Foster." I said meekly, still looking at the food she had promised. Annalise followed my gaze._

_"I'll give ya da food if ya watch 'im." She turned to Archie. "I needs ta get out dere and get sometink. Speak English fer Brandie." She told him, handing me a stale piece of bread, then walked out of the tiny hut. _

_I don't know why, and I don't know how, but that was the beginning of a great friendship. I stayed with them for the next couple months, which proved I was going to stay there forever. They taught me how to speak German fluently, even for their ages they knew what they were doing. We played together for the next two years, becoming closer friends by the minute. _

_Over those two years, Anna's and Arch's parents found them and me. Apparently they had been in Germany settling some money affairs. They took me in with them, and considered me part of their family, though they never adopted me. _

_One night, their father never came home. He told Annalise where he was going, but she wasn't listening. Instead she was listening to Arch talk about something that had happened earlier that day. That night when their mother came home, she demanded to know where her husband was. Of course Anna did not remember the vital information her father had given her. _

_At that time, I was outside with Arch. We had been outside all day, and were about to go in when we heard the screaming and yelling. In fear, we ran to the side of the house and huddled close together, trying to find out what the problem was. We soon discovered it. _

_"Why can't you ever listen to anything you stupid stupid girl!" _

_"Stop mama stop!" Anna cried out. After that we heard her cries for help and pain. Through the thin walls we heard the sounds of her mother hitting Anna's fragile body. By the time she had stopped, it was too late. I begged Arch to move but he wouldn't. I even yelled at him in German. It only turned his head to reveal tears in his eyes. I cried too. But not before their mother stormed out of the house. _

_"Where is your father?" She walked right past me and looked at Archie. I took this opportunity to go inside the house. I wish I hadn't. What I saw there reminded me of my mother. Annalise was lying dead on the floor, beaten to death. I listened in fear to hear if Arch was receiving the same fate. He wasn't. In a matter of minutes the murderer stomped back in. _

_"Get out there and follow him! And don't you ever come back!" She yelled at me, pointing out the door. I quickly obeyed, not once looking back at my best friend. _

_"Archie! Archie!" I yelled for him. He wasn't by the side of the house where I had left him. After searching for hours, I found him crying beside an old dumpster. _

_"Is she d-d-dead?" He managed. I nodded my response, trying to hide my tears. That night, we made a pact. Never would we leave each other for anything. We would always be the best of friends, forever. _

~End flashback~ 

That had been true for many years, until just last year actually. He grew up to be a sex-crazed fool, raping me twice. He was put in jail for that and countless of other things. That was the real reason I had moved to New York. That and the fact I had nothing going for me in New Jersey. 

"C'mon Brandie! Get outta dreamland and help heah." Sniff teased. 

"Oh, I wasn't in dreamland." I laughed. 

"100 more papes!" Randy called out. "C'mon I asked bout 2 minutes ago let's go." I took them to him. Randy slid them out to Spot. I hadn't even noticed it was him. He smiled and then walked away. 

"Better go catch 'im before he goes ta Tibby's without cha." Harold winked at me. I rolled my eyes and walked back to Sniff. 

"Yeah. Get outta heah an' go." He shooed me to the door. 

"I would. But don't cha tink Randy will get jus' a little mad." I hinted to him. 

"Nah. Not if he don't know dat your gone." He winked and opened the door for me. I quietly crept out, feeling slightly guilty. I walked off to find Spot. 

~A/N~ Well hello again! I finally got this chapter done! I had a brain block for awhile, but then I got the inspiration to do that whole flashback thing! I hope you all liked it. I would have liked to explore Annalise's character more, but she died. LoL. Anyway it was only a flashback so yeah. Please review, and thanks to my reviewers who did review! 

Tiggerbaby2430: Thanks much for your review! Yes, Race is acting strange, and I am kinda regretting doing that. I like when he is all happy and what not. Yeah, I was trying to hint that he likes her. Hehe! Which actually might show more in the next chapter! LoL Hope you liked this one! 

Pyro: Yeah more interesting. Maybe not this one or the next, but I promise that it will be. I have BIG plans for this story, big ones! Yeah, I wanna go to the racetrack with him! Thanks for coming back and reviewing! Hope you enjoy this one. Did it make you cry? Hehe! 

Leila3: YAY! A new reviewer! You get the cookie for this chapter! Hehe! I'm glad you like it. I really like your story too! No, I LOVE it! Thanks for reviewing, I hope you liked this chapter! 

The next one should be up soon, or so I hope! Check out the account, SmallsandMilkshake —that is my joint account with Vinnie Monfredo (who forgot to review last time!!) We are planning on posting our first chapter soon! Very soon actually! Check us out. We co-write stories on that account! Thanks again! 

  
  
  
  



	11. Jersey Bound

Spot's Milkshake

Chapter Eleven: Jersey Bound

Disclaimer: Yes, once again I do not own newsies, disney does. I do own Brandie and Troy, and the plot! Don't sue me! 

  


We walked into Tibby's. No one was there. Probably still out selling papers. 

"Figure's he'd make us wait." Spot complained, sitting down in the nearest chair. I sat next to him. It still had that old smell of burnt muffins and cigar smoke, but I liked it.

Finally, a boy walked in. I knew I had seen him before at the party, but I couldn't recall his name. 

"Nice seein' ya heah Davey." Spot said to him as he walked by. 

"It's nice ta see you. Wha' are ya doing heah?" He asked, ordering himself a chicken wing. 

"Didn't Jack tell ya? He wanted ta talk ta me an' he told me ta bring 'er along." Now Spot was looking confused. I guess Jack usually told everyone that Spot was coming, this time he obviously didn't. 

"'ave a nice day den Davey." Spot said rather irritated. I didn't allow my brain to think for the next few minutes. Instead I let it travel back to New Jersey with Arch and Annalise. I touched my neck, feeling the cross necklace Anna had given me all those years ago. She said she had stolen it from a lady who was buying oranges. 

"Glad ya could come." Jack said as he walked in. My hand instantly left my neck and landed on the table. Racetrack followed him in. He looked a little solemn for my taste, but then again so did Jack. 

_*Oh great wha's dis bout?* _Spot thought to himself. *_I ain't in da mood ta hear sometink dumb like da strike._* 

"I need ta talk ta ya Spot. Race wants ta talk ta Mornin' Face." He looked at Racetrack, then took Spot to the back of Tibbys. 

"Wha' is so important dat ya pulled me all da way heah?" I asked playfully, trying to lighten his mood. It didn't work. 

"I don't wanna tell ya dis, but I might as well. Dere's a guy walkin' round axin' people if dey know ya an' wheah ya are. He ain't heah yet. I was jus' talkin' ta me buddy in Queens. Scout's 'er name. Anyways, she axed me if I knew a Brandie Foster. I says ta 'er, yeah I know 'er. Why? Den she tells me bout dis guy who wants ta talk ya. I says ta 'er, if he axes ya again, ta tell 'im no. Anyways, I jus' want cha ta be aware of 'im." He looked down at his feet. 

"Ya tink it's me dad don't cha?" I looked him squarely in the eye. I knew he did. I did too. And frankly, I was scared to death. What did he want with me all of a sudden. And how did he know to come to New York? I stood rooted to the spot, waiting for him to answer. 

"Well, yeah." He said it like it was obvious. 

"Wha' am I gonna do?" I sat back down in my chair, not knowing what to think. He looked at me with concern in his eyes. 

"I would only suggest leavin', but..." He trailed off. 

"Ya want me ta leave?" I asked him quietly, looking down at the hard table. The answer didn't come right away. While I was waiting, I saw Spot and Jack looking over at me, serious looks on their faces. I could only guess that Jack was telling Spot the same thing. Race must have told Jack my poor pathetic childhood story. 

"I don't want cha ta leave. But I do if it's the only way ta make ya safe." He looked at me, sadness in his eyes. 

"So, he'll be sending me away won't he?" I asked, looking over at Spot. 

"I tink dat's wha' dere talkin' bout. I wouldn't swear ta it though." Race told me. 

"I'm safe heah!" I insisted., standing up. "I can soak dat idiot before he knows wha' hit 'im!" I declared. I tried to make Race believe me, but he didn't. This only seemed to make him seem sadder. "Racetrack, I won't leave ya, don't worry." I promised. 

He looked up, smiling slightly. "I don't tink ya can stop Jack anymore." He said, looking back down. Then back up. "Man I wanna give ya a great, big hug, but if Spot sees." He stopped again. 

"Spot won't mind." I assured him, smiling as he wrapped his arms around me. "Racetrack I don't wanna go anywheah." I cried into his shoulder. 

"I know baby. I know." He hugged me harder, as if to tell me that I was and he couldn't stop it. 

***

Jack had told me goodbye, giving me a short hug, almost like he was never going to see me again. 

"Wheah are ya sendin' me?" I asked quietly as we walked back to the lodging house. 

"We haven't decided yet. Not outta New York mind ya. Maybe Buffalo. We'd pay fer your carriage an' everyting. Den we would send fer ya when dat creep was gone." He said sadly. 

"Jus' tell someone dat I'm in Missouri or someting like dat. Why would ya send me away?" I was near tears. 

"Den, we thought bout da fact dat he could easily travel to Buffalo, so if we gathered enough, we were tinking bout sendin' ya back ta New Jersey fer a few months. Ya wouldn't 'ave ta pay fer da carriage an' horse. We would do dat." He smiled weakly. 

"Jersey sounds betta I guess." I voiced my opinion, even though I doubted it would matter.

"Dat's wha' da Cowboy was tinking." He said, defeated. No. He couldn't be. He had to convince him that this was crazy and that I was fine here. "Dat's da lunatic now." Jack told me he always wears dis little ting round his neck. Race told 'im. Jus' keep walkin'." He was all pale now. I knew I was too. The man, my father, stopped and looked at us. We just kept walking, pretending he wasn't there. He looked away, and kept walking. 

*_That was too damn close_* Spot thought. 

I guess they're right. I had better get out of here while I still can. 

"When's da earliest I can leave?" I asked, tears made their way down my hot cheeks. 

"I can go back an' tell Cowboy tomorrow. I'm sure he can get someting fixed up. Keep walkin', I'll catch up." He turned around and walked back to Tibby's. I watched him go, but continued just like he said. 

"Milkshake's back!" Sniff announced as I walked through the lodging houses door. "How's bout a short game of poker or bullshit?" He asked, holding out a pile of old, yellowing cards. 

"No tanks." I said sadly. I doubted I would ever see this place again. I trudged up the steps slowly, taking it all in. New Jersey was a little further than I would have liked to go, but I guessed it would be nice to see home again. If I could call it home. I tried to remember what my father had looked like when I saw him. I knew it had been him right away. Now that I thought about it, he didn't look as scruffy as he used to. He actually had some nice looking clothes on. But where did he get the money? 

I heard a knock on the door, then heard a voice. "May I come in?" It was Pouncher. 

"Might as well." I told him. He sat next to me on the bed I had chosen to sit on. It was Spot's bed actually. I had just automatically gone there. 

"Sometink's wrong." He stated. 

"Wha'?" I asked. 

"You. Don't act stupid, cause ya ain't." He told me, trying to comfort me. 

"Tanks. I've moving back ta Jersey." I tried to sound like I wanted this. "New York jus' ain't woikin' out." I turned to him and gave him a sad smile. 

"Tell me da truth." He smiled at him. He knew I was lying. I took a deep breath and confessed. 

"Mein dumbass Vater ist fer mich zurückgekommen. Er ist wären nicht ein ficken lunatic und es sicher, hier zu bleiben. Cowboy sagt, daß ich hinter sobald er verläßt sein werde. Ich zweifle, daß er wird, bis er mich findet. Ich weiß wie die Hölle, die er mir gefunden hat, hier nicht aber er machte. Ich werde ya Pouncher, Sie und den Rest von ihnen verpassen." I laughed as he stared at me. 

**translated this means, My dumbass dad came back fer me. He's a fucking lunatic and it wouldn't be safe to stay here. Cowboy says that I'll be back as soon as he leaves. I doubt he will until he finds me. I don't know how the hell he found me here, but he did. I'll miss ya Pouncher, you and the rest of them.** 

"It ain't my fault ya can't speak German!" I laughed again as Spot walked in the room. 

"Da carriage will be heah tamorrow mornin'. In front o da lodging 'ouse. I tink Cowboy said he'd be dere ta say goodbye, but he can't make no promises." Spot said. He didn't look sad at all. I hoped he was covering it up, but I could never be sure. "Dere's still 'alf da day left, wanna do sometink?" He asked. 

"I suppose we could." I said, trying to act as normal as possible. It wasn't possible. I followed him out the door and down the steps. It was raining, but he didn't seem to care. The first drop was like ice to my skin. My skin prickled to the feeling. My insides squirmed as I wondered where we were going. 

"Any particular place in New Jersey?" Spot asked. 

"Little Ferry." I replied. Little Ferry was the town I had grown up in. It was relatively close to New York City, so it might not be that long of a ride. 

"Dat far away?" He asked, looking at me. His skin was dripping wet, along with his clothes. 

"I don't tink so." I answered. We walked in silence for a little longer before I realized Spot didn't want to do anything. He just wanted to spend time with me and talk. "I don't wanna go." I complained, near tears again. 

"Look, you'll be fine. Don't get all crybaby on me ok?" He asked, not looking at me. 

"Mad bout sometink?" I asked him wiping my eyes. 

"No. Wha' makes ya tink dat?" He asked. I dropped the subject. 

"I've been heah a week or two." I twisted some of my damp hair around my equally damp finger. "An' somehow I made friends wit someone, an' dere already sendin' me away." I could feel the tears creeping their way to my face once more. 

"I ain't sendin' ya away!" His voice rising. He stopped walking and turned to me. "You're gonna be safer dis way! I'll personally come fer ya when ya can come back! I would go wit cha but me boys need me!" He yelled, although I could see he was trying to calm down. 

"Nah. It don't mattah no more who I love or anyting. No one loves me back." I pretended I hadn't heard him. I had to tell him how I had felt, in fact it was how I had felt my entire life. 

"But I love ya Milkshake." He said, coming closer to me. He seemed torn that I didn't acknowledge that he loved me. 

"Well ya certainly show it." I said sarcastically, stepping away from him. 

"I hate it too, but Jack's righ. Ya ain't safe heah." He said, taking another step closer. I stepped back. 

"Den go soak 'im an' it'll all be betta." I tried. 

"I can't. Forget it. If ya feel dat way, den, den, fine!" He turned and walked back to the lodging house. I didn't follow him. Tomorrow would be different. I wouldn't have anyone. Like usual. All my life I had Arch. My one and true friend. Now he was in jail, he had been for about a 7 months. I was actually hoping he would be out by now, so I could go back home and see him, waiting for me to come back. I was. I would put the past 2 or 3 weeks behind me. This never happened. 

I ended up back at the lodging house a couple of hours later. A game of poker was going on, and surprisingly, Spot was not playing with them. I wasn't soaked to the bone from the rain though. The skies had cleared up and the sun had dried my clothes to some extent. 

"I'm not comin' back." I told Spot when I saw him on his bed that night. 

"I didn't figure ya would. I mean da way ya were talkin' out dere, I knew it all along." He seemed sad. 

"No. It jus' wasn't meant ta be dats all." I stated sadly. Inside I was lying to myself. This was destiny. Spot Conlon and I were meant to be together forever. But somehow I had convinced myself to stay in Little Ferry. 

"I know. I mean, wha' would a goil like you want ta do in a place like dis? I mean look round ya. I ain't exactly any goils dream." (He's wrong there ;) ) 

"You're my dream." I told him, hopping up to sit next to him on top of the bunk. 

"Maybe so." He said, fingering his slingshot. 

"I'm really gonna miss ya." I said, laying my head on his shoulder. He put his head on top of mine, and we sat there like that for a few minutes. "Ok, maybe I will come back." I smiled at him. He returned it. 

"Nope. Brandie Foster ain't heah!" We heard Harold yell up the stairs. 

"Damn." Spot muttered. "Alright, uh, go up on da roof!" He pointed to a small door in the back of the room. I guessed it would take me to the roof. 

"Why are ya yellin boy?" I heard my father's deep voice ask Harold. 

"I didn't tink I was yellin'." He lied. I scampered through the door, and ran to the roof. Maybe since he was here now, he would leave and I could stay. It wasn't for another good 15 minutes before I saw him below, leaving, Harold and Pouncher following him out. The small door behind me opened, revealing Spot. 

"So, how'd ya like 'im." I asked him, grinning.

"Rude sort o man. Doesn't seem like da type who would be da man dat ya described." He stated, looking up at me to see what I would say. 

"Yeah. He does look like he changed. I doubt it. Looks can't change da soul." I said, more to myself than Spot. I looked at his eyes and knew that this hadn't changed a thing. I ran to him and wrapped my arms around his neck, crying into his chest. He let me. This was too painful. A dream I had tried to convince myself. It was all a dream and I would wake up soon, Spot by my side. Then I would run all the way to Manhattan and see Racetrack. Everything would be ok. 

It seemed believable. The next morning I awoke next to Spot. I nudged him awake. He was startled, but soon calmed down. He pecked me on the cheek, then frowned. I knew right then and there that this wasn't a dream. I shook my head no, but he shook his yes, regret in his eyes. 

I stepped down from the bunk and found Sniff. He was strewn across his bed, arm over his chest. I bent down and kissed him on the forehead. He had been one of my best friends here. Pouncher too. I found him lying awake on his bed, almost like he could feel the sorrow in the air. I hugged him tightly, then let go and went downstairs. Racetrack, Jack Kelly, and Mush were there. I was almost brought to tears by this, but refrained from letting myself cry. Smalls was there too. I didn't think I deserved all this attention, but I was thankful that I would get to say goodbye. 

"Take care." Smalls told me, hugging me tightly, then retreating to Jack's side. Snicker walked out from the clubroom, half asleep. Blindly he hugged me too, confused about the whole situation. I would have left right then and there just to get it over with, but Jack, Race, and Mush had come just for me. Mush approached me first. 

"I'll make sure da Tabernak's stay in line." He teased, embracing me. I looked at him. I didn't know him well enough to hug him, so I simply smiled and walked onto Jack. 

"Bye Mornin' Face." He said quietly, pulling me close. Somehow I stopped myself from crying into him. I pulled away, looking him in the eye. Compassion filled them. I nodded my goodbye, then looked at Racetrack. It was hard to do, but I mustered up the courage and hugged him tightly. 

"Cheer number 7 for me." I cried softly, only loud enough for him to hear. 

"Wit pleasure." He laughed and pulled away. "See ya round den?" He asked. 

"Yeah. Jus' make sure ya come get me ok? Little Ferry, New Jersey. It ain't far from heah." I told him, hinting that he should come visit me. He nodded, then turned me over to Spot. 

"Well, da carriage man said he'd be heah soon. Take care. I'll be back fer ya. I promise." He said, kissing me tenderly. At that moment, we heard the horse's footsteps on the cobblestones. The moment I had been dreading had come. I walked out the door, and turned back to see Smalls with tears in her eyes, Spot was looking down at his feet, holding his cane in one hand. Jack had placed his cowboy hat on his head, hiding his face. Mush was staring at me, giving me an encouraging smile. Snicker, who now seemed fully awake, was still grasping the realness of it all. Racetrack was lighting a cigar and placed it in his mouth. I saw the water in his eyes, trying to flow down his face. It's ok to cry, I thought to myself. Indeed I did, but not before I got into the carriage. 

"Little Ferry, New Jersey." I told the driver. He nodded. I couldn't see his face, he had it hidden under his hat. Just like Jack did. The salty tears burst out of my eyes, as I stifled a sob. The driver slapped the reins unto the horses back, making the horse neigh a cry of pain, and then move forward. I looked behind me one more time and saw Spot out on the streets, almost like he was coming to tell me I could come back. He never did. Instead he stood there until I couldn't see him anymore. I turned back around and watched the road as night fell overhead.

~A/N~ So how'd ya like it? I am listening to some music and it's very sad. No, this is NOT the end of the story. Not at all! I'll tell ya when it is, jeez. Yes, I just posted my 10th chapter what, two days ago! I take every chapter one at a time. I am very proud though, because I got this done quickly! I don't know when I'll post it. I was waiting for Vinnie Monfredo to review so I could give her a shout out! Haha! Well anyway, now things are starting to heat up! 

~Who is the mysterious carriage driver? 

~Oh dear...the terrible break-up between Brandie and Spot! They made up though!

Hope you all enjoyed this chapter LoL! Please review! I LOVE reviews. They make me all warm and fuzzy inside ;) 

Tiggerbaby2430: Yes, I like the game bullshit too! Though I stink at it. I can never keep a straight face hehe! You ask what happened to her dad? Well now you know. He's after her!!!! Evil man! I loved writing when he was stroking her hair. I really don't wanna make her leave, but I must, the story calls for it. Hope you like this one! Thanks for reviewing! I REALLY loved writing when Spot and her get all mad at each other out in the rain! That was fun! 

Pyro: You know I love getting reviews from you! I really do! Did you cry this time? I doubt that you would, but really did you? I give you this chapters cookie! Hehe! I love handing out the sacred chapter cookie! Yep, very interesting! I love it! I already have an idea for the ending...AND...chapter 12 is almost done! Until the next review...

Only 2 reviewers? Oh well.....Yes, Chapter 12 is almost done..just a couple of more things and then of course the touch-ups! But I don't know when I will get to finish it, because I have to write a French story for French class, and it's due this Friday..AHHHHH!!! I think it's gonna be about some high school or college kids going to the Tour de France and watching Lance Armstrong win! I dunno yet. I better get cracking! Oh, one last shout out, despite the fact that she didn't review! It's probably because I showed her the chapter before I posted it so she didn't want to get on and add a review..oh well! 

Vinnie Monfredo: Hey gurlie..will you PLEASE review this chapter? I think I already showed you it, but I dunno! Hope you liked it! Hope you sign on AIM soon! 

I will try hard to finish chapter 12 for you guys! I might today, it's just about done LoL! Enjoy..until the next chapter... (hehe I loved when Racetrack hugs her in Tibbys!) 

  
  
  
  



	12. Home is Where the Heart Is

Spot's Milkshake

Chapter Twelve: Home is Where the Heart Is 

Disclaimer: I don't own newsies, Disney does. I wish I did, but doesn't everyone? I do own Brandie and the plot, and her dad. 

After a couple of hours, nothing looked familiar. I was sure we would have been there by now, or at least I would have seen something that I knew. 

"S'cuse me sir. Wheah are we exactly." I asked as politely as I could. The man hadn't spoken since I had first gotten in the carriage and I was thankful at first. But soon the silence was annoying and I wondered why he wasn't asking questions like, why are you going to New Jersey? Or other unimportant things like that. 

"We're headin ta Bridgeton, New Jersey Brandie." He turned around, pulling the carriage to the side of the road, smiling a nasty smile. 

"H-h-how do ya know me name?" I asked, horrified. 

"I can't believe ya don't recognize me. I knew it was you da minute I saw ya out dere on da streets. I watched dat lodging house full o' dem boys. Someone asked a nearby carriage driver if he would take ya ta someplace in New Jersey. I smiled to myself, knowin wha' I had ta do. I stole dat carriage an' arrived, ready ta take ya wit me." He smiled again. "Ya look so grown up." He said mockingly. 

"I'm 17 you dumbass." 

"Dat's no way ta be talkin' ta your faddah." He laughed, pulling back onto the road. 

"Wha' do ya want wit me? An' wha' da hell is in Bridgeton?!" I yelled. 

"Your future. Don't be talkin' ta me like dat. We hafta find you some new clothes, ya can't be wearin' dat." He looked back at me, turning up his nose when he saw me.

"I like me clothes da way dey are. Wha' do ya mean my future?" I asked. I had a horrible feeling about what he would say next. 

"My dear friends da Dunstan's. Dey wanna meet ol' Gregory's daughter. You've been pledged ta marry dere son, Frederick. 

"Marry?!" I exploded. "I don't wanna marry dis, dis Frederick Dunstan! No! I don't even know him! An' I doubt dat boy wants ta marry a goil he don't even know!" I shouted louder than ever. 

"Maybe so. But dat is why you are goin' ta meet 'im. Anyway, I want me daughter back. I live in da room above dere 'ouse, kinda like dere attic. Don't look like no attic though. Oh no, dem are rich dem are." He laughed. "An' so is your pop! Went an' made sometink outta 'imself he did." He smiled. "I reckon we'll be dere by evenin' tomorrow. Jus' sleep now." He told me. It was rather difficult to get comfortable in the carriage, let alone fall asleep as we bumped along on the cobblestones. As I lay there, I thought about what I had just learned in the past 10 minutes or so. It didn't take long to realize that I would never go back to Brooklyn, New York, let alone New York itself. I cried myself to sleep, knowing that today was the last time I would see any of my friends back there. It was the last time I would play bullshit, or sell papers, or go to late night parties where your date got so drunk that you had to carry him around an unfamiliar city. Never again would I go to the races and cheer on the number 7 horse. Never again would I have any of those things that New York had provided for me in my short stay. 

"Well, dat's it for awhile I guess." Jack said, taking off his cowboy hat. "I'm gonna search da city fer dat goon." He walked out, leaving the room in silence.

"Why'd ya all send 'er away?" Snicker asked quietly. "I knew da whole situation, but..." He trailed off. 

"Wha's she gonna do dere? Eh? Noone thought dat one out did dey?" Race complained, stomping out of the lodging house. 

"Betta make sure he doesn't kill sometink." Mush joked, rushing after Racetrack. 

Smalls just stood there, crying. "It ain't right. Dat no good man is tearin' up dis place. She shouldn't hafta do dis." She slowly walked up the stairs to find Sniff. That left Snicker. He looked out the door and saw Spot still standing in the middle of the street. 

"Why are ya lettin' 'er get away?" Snicker shouted out the door. 

"Can't run fast enough I s'pose." Spot said, returning to the club room. "Back ta business. Maybe we can get sometink done round heah now dat everyone won't wanna be round 'er. Look at dis window! We gotta do sometink bout it." He walked over the window and looked out of it. 

"Either ya go get 'er or forget 'er." Snicker told the King of Brooklyn. 

" Den I guess she's in da past now." He said, taking his head of the window and walked back outside to the distribution center. 

"Get up. We're heah." I shaken back into consciousness. I looked around, expecting to see a huge manor. Instead I saw stores. I remembered that I was to get a new dress and probably new everything. "C'mon goil." He hurriedly rushed me into the store and asked me which dress I liked better. They were all way to fancy for my taste. One had flowers covering it, with ruffles around the bottom and around the cuff of the neck. The other was a pink one lined with lace. Another was a deep crimson one, that had white lace around the sleeves. I chose that one, it seemed to be the plainest. Despite my choice, he bought all 3, and more. The one I detested with a passion was a light purple with a goldish, bronze ribbon that tied around the waist. He showed me necklaces upon necklaces, making me decide which I would like to wear. He told me to throw my cross necklace away. He said it was a wretched piece of jewelry. I argued and won, though I never did tell him why I wanted to keep it so much. 

By the time we were done, we had at least 8 dresses for me to wear, and those were just the fancy ones. He had bought a couple casual ones too. He had also gone overboard on the necklaces, saying I must have a different one everyday. Tonight I would wear one that was lined with pearls, with a big one in the middle, and then little ones beside it. It would match my beige dress that had a white sash made of, what else, lace. Tonight was a big dinner for them. We of course were invited. My father had been lucky to have found me before tonight. 

"Show your best manners if ya would be so kind." He said sarcastically. 

"My pleasure." I said sorely. I might as well take this in the best way I could. I would not be at the mercy of my father, though I would obey him and give him the pleasure of making a good impression to the Dunstans. I supposed I would be living with him in their attic, which he described looked like an ordinary bedroom. 

"We're jus' about dere." He pointed ahead. A towering manor was just up the road. I gazed in awe of its size.

"Beauty ain't it? Now put dis on before we get dere." He told me, handing me the dress, corset, chemise, and necklace. I hoped he wouldn't look back at me while I was changing, but he did. I almost slapped him across the face, but refrained from doing so. 

"Stop the carriage!" I told him. "I need help tying this damn corset." He kept driving until we arrived, then jumped to the back seat with me and helped me tie it. 

"Hurry before they suspect that we've arrived. Put your hair in a bun too. Or do ya need help." He mocked my helplessness. 

"I can put me hair in a bun jus' fine tanks." I replied coldly. 

Once I was dressed, and my father approved of it, we walked into the house. 

"Father! They've arrived father!" A little girl of about 6 shouted. 

"Dear God. Already?" A man in his mid-thirties stepped out from around the corner. "Gregory! Wonderful. I'm assuming your trip was successful?" He asked, studying me.

"Very much so. This is my lovely daughter Brandie. Brandie this is Emory Dunstan, and his daughter Rae." 

"Nice to meet you." I said as polite as I could. They were obviously very rich and proper. I didn't know how I could possibly be married to someone like this, but it seemed like I had no choice. 

"My wife is in the dining room, awaiting our guests. We will be announcing the engagement to everyone tonight. If that is alright with you Gregory." Mr. Dunstan asked my father. 

"It is perfectly fine with me." He said much too excitedly. It irritated me that they had the nerve to do this. I hadn't even met Frederick yet, nor had he met me. What if we hated each other? Besides, he asked my father if it was alright if they announced _my _engagement. He hadn't even proposed yet! 

"Adelaide would come out here? Gregory is back and he brought her." In a matter of seconds, a very pretty young woman came around the corner. She seemed much too young for this man, but I supposed if they were happy then it was alright. This made me think about how much older Frederick would be. 

"She's gorgeous." Mrs. Dunstan commented almost like I wasn't there. I didn't know if I should say thank you or not, since the comment wasn't directed to me. My dad took care of that for me. 

"Thank you very much Adelaide." He said, kissing her on the hand. 

"Frederick, she's here." Mr. Dunstan called out. I noticed that throughout the entire conversation, I had not been spoken to. I had told them that it was nice to meet them, but never once did they say anything to me. 

Just then, a fairly tall boy with sandy blonde hair came down the steps. He was smiling at me I believe. I returned it right away. He was certainly a handsome boy, and looked nice, but then, so did Harold. Harold. Harold reminded me of New York. I quickly brushed those memories aside as he came down and greeted me.

"You must be the infamous Brandie?" He asked, taking my hand and kissing it. I nodded.

"And ya must be da infamous Frederick." I joked. Finally I could be myself and not have to worry about how they liked me, though out of the corner of my eye, I could see Mr. Dunstan looking disapprovingly. Hopefully my father hadn't seen or else he would lecture me later tonight. 

"Shall we go into the dining area?" Adelaide asked everyone. Without saying anything, everyone followed. I was seated next to Frederick, who was on my right, and Rae who was on my left. 

"So, what have you done with yourself?" Emory Dunstan asked me as I sat down. I knew my history wouldn't be pleasant, so I left out the small fact that I had stolen for food my entire life until just a few weeks ago when I worked at the distribution office. 

"I've woiked in Brooklyn, New York handin' out papers to the newsboys." I told them. "I've also woiked in a cigar shop, though I had no idea wha' I was doin'." I grinned, holding back my laugh as I thought about how Race had laughed so hard when I gave the woman the wrong cigars. 

"A cigar shop?" Adelaide seem appalled by that comment. 

"How interesting, so ya could tell me wha' kind a Havana one was den?" My father asked me. The grin instantly disappeared from me face. 

"I'm afraid that I only woiked dere a week, cleaning the storage room." I told him. I hated Havana cigars now. They reminded me of Racetrack, who I missed dearly. 

"I have something for you." Frederick said out of nowhere. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a velvet case. Inside was the most beautiful diamond ring I had ever seen. "It's princess cut." He told me. Apparently princess cut meant that it was cut in a square. It glimmered to the extent that I thought I would be blinded. He slipped it on my finger, ensuring our life together. I didn't really realize this until later. Now I was fixated on the beauty of it. 

"It's gorgeous." I said, totally out of breath. Adelaide Dunstan was crying by now, Emory Dunstan was smiling with pride as he looked at his son and daughter-in-law. Rae Dunstan was bursting with pride. Gregory Foster was simply sitting there, looking at his surroundings, almost like I wasn't there. 

"How long is the engagement?" Rae piped up. 

"A year or two honey." Emory told his daughter. I tried not to act surprised by this, but it was hard not to. 

"That's a long time." Rae noted. 

"We'll be traveling the country during that time honey. I told you last week." Adelaide patted her daughter on the head. "Do you like to travel dear?" She directed her question at me. I didn't know how to answer this, mostly because I hadn't traveled that much. Then I thought of Arch, and Spot and Racetrack. They had all hurt me in some way. Pretending to care for me, only to betray me. Arch, he got himself in trouble with the law and left me alone. Spot and Race had sent me to this. Of course they had no idea, but still, they had done it. 

"Yes. I love to travel." I replied. _If I stay in one place too long I would make friends, only to be hurt. _I thought. Of course I would be with Frederick forever, unless I messed it all up, which was definitely a possibility. 

"The guests will be arriving soon. Our entertainer should be here at any moment." Emory stated. 

"Maybe you've heard of her. She's from New York. Medda Larkson. She's an old family friend." Adelaide told me while getting up to stand by the door, ready to greet her guests. I was frozen to my seat. I felt the color drain out of my face. Medda Larkson was going to be here. I knew she didn't know me, but this was my chance to send a message to Jack and Spot. I could pull Medda aside and tell her to tell them that I'm engaged against my will and there is nothing I can do. 

"Yes, as a mattah o' fact I do know 'er." I said happily. There was a knock on the door, and one of the servants went to the door. When he opened it, Medda was standing on the other side, with a huge grin, and the same fiery red hair. 

"It's nice to see you again deary." Medda exclaimed, giving Mrs. Dunstan a huge hug. 

"We're so glad you could come. How was your trip?" 

"Splendid. Now, where is my little Rae?" She asked, much to enthused if you ask me. Rae ran down the hallway, almost tripping on her dress, into Medda's out stretched arms. Frederick came next, giving her a quick peck on the cheek. "And who is this pretty girl? A fiancé Frederick?" She winked at him. 

"Medda, this is Brandie Foster, Brandie this is Medda Larkson." Adelaide introduced us. 

"Pleased to meet you." She said to me, smiling uncontrollably. I nodded, still thinking about what I would tell her later on. 

"You'll be singing in here." Emory directed her to a different area of the house. 

"Can I show her around the house?" Rae asked eagerly, pulling on her mothers dress. 

"You'll rip it dear. If that's what you want to do." She said, almost reluctantly. 

"C'mon!" Rae said happily, pulling me away from Adelaide and Frederick. I had no idea where my father had gone, and frankly I didn't care. Another crazy idea sprouted in my mind. What if I got Medda to take me back to Manhattan with her? Then I remembered that she seemed to be best of friends with this family and would probably not even consider such a thing. 

"This is the dining room, but you already knew that." Rae told me, beaming with happiness. She lead me through the dining room and then showed me the room where most of the guests would sit when dinner was over, it was also where Medda would be performing. The room was enormous and in the back, there were glass windows which led to a veranda. 

"That's my favorite place to be." Rae told me, pointing to the veranda. "It's really peaceful, and I love to just sit there and think." She took my hand once more and lead me up a flight of marble stairs. I had never seen anything like it. She looked up at me, smiling, almost like she was happy I had never seen this. She passed the first couple of rooms and took me to the one on the far end of the hallway. 

"We saved this one for you." She said proudly, taking me into the room. It was a deep red, and it looked like a regular room. It had two couches, covered with red satin, a fireplace, a four poster bed with red satin covers and pillows. There was also a lounge chair, which was also red, and red carpeting. "You like?" She asked me. 

"I love it." I gasped. These people sure had a lot of money. We passed at least 5 other bedrooms before we got to mine. And mine was the last one. 

"I'll show you mine later, but the guests will be here soon, and we should be by the door. Everyone is really anxious to meet you." 

"Meet me?" I asked, confused. 

"Yeah. And then tomorrow is when all the fun starts! We get to plan the wedding!" She said, running out of the room and down the stairs. Wedding. Right. I was supposed to get married. But that was in a couple of years. I decided not to question anything at this point. I remembered what I had to do. Act pretty and sweet, then, talk to Medda. 

A/N Well there it is. The answers to your questions...what happened to her father? Why was he after her? There you have it. The Dunstans. I LOVE RAE! She is the cutest little thing I've ever seen! Or written about that is. So what did you all think? I like it. It really adds a twist to the story doesn't it? I've had this chapter written for a while now, but like I said, I had that French project, and I was just lazy and didn't post! 

Notice how Brandie is simply giving up. Why? Is it because her heart is lost in New York? 

So..I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! Tell me what you think...you know I LOVE reviews! haha I was stumped with the chapter title..so oh well! 

Pyro: Thankies for reviewing! YAY! YOU CRIED! I am very proud of myself hehe! I don't think that this chapter will make you cry..but you never know ;) I really hope you like this one. I hope that cookie was good! 

Duncan: Thanks a lot! You get the cookie for being the new reviewer! I know you reviewed for chapter 2, but maybe you've read your way up here LoL! Thanks for the info by the way. I hope you like the story, and this chapter! Thanks again for reviewing, hope you review again! 

Tiggerbaby2430: Splendiferous? Funny stuff that is! I'll bet you were right when you said that the driver was her dad! WoW ur physic! AHHH! Glad you liked the last chapter, hope you liked this one too! You get the 'Best Reviewer Cookie' for this chapter since u made up that funny word hehe! Hope you review again! 

BlackWiltedRose: wow at first I thought I had a new reviewer, but then I realized that you changed your name! Yes, I do love your story soo much! And I can't wait for you to update it! I'm sooo glad that you like the story! YAY! I would give you a cookie, but I am out :( hands u a cookie made of air hehe! Hope you like this chapter, and I hope you review again! 

Vinnie Monfredo....WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN? (Shes online everyday hehe) Anyway, I didn't show u this chapter before hand so u have to read it Muhaaww! Then u have to review double Muhaaww! Hurry up gurlie! 


	13. Chapter 13

Spot's Milkshake  
  
Chapter Thirteen: chapter 13 (sorry couldnt think of anything..if u have suggestions please tell me!)   
  
Disclaimer: I don't own newsies, or Medda! I do own the Dunstans, Gregory Foster, Brandie Foster, and Cellophane.  
  
I had been standing at the door for at least an hour. People gawked at me and shook my hand. The men kissed it, just as Frederick had done to me. I wasn't really all there. I was in my own little dreamland, where I would see Spot or Race, or Jack, or Snicker, or Sniff, or even Harold come walking through the door, dressed in his finest, come to take me home. I would apologize to Frederick profusely, and even invite him along to be a newsie. To his family, I would laugh in their faces. I would pick Rae up in my arms and carry her all the way to Brooklyn. But that was only a dream. It wasn't going to happen. They had no idea that I was there. Which was all the more reason that I had to talk to Medda.  
  
"It's a pleasure to finally meet you." An elderly lady took my hand and shook it.  
  
"Nice to meet you too." I said, almost through clenched teeth. By now it was only me and Frederick at the door. The two older Dunstans had left to play their part as host and hostess, and Rae had run off somewhere.  
  
"When will dese people stop comin'?" I asked irritably.  
  
"They have another 15 minutes to get here." He whispered back to me, shaking the hand of a girl his own age. She didn't seem interested in him, which disappointed me. I would have easily given him up.  
  
The 15 minutes passed slowly, and I could have sworn it was another 40, but I didn't say anything. Frederick escorted me into the dining room, and pulled my chair out for me and then pushed it back in as I sat down. Once everyone had been seated at the long, narrow table, Emory said grace and then clapped his hands, signaling some caters to bring out the food. On big silver platters, our food came. I hadn't had this much food, nor had I seen this much food for the longest time. At least 6 months. My mouth began to water as I continued to stare at the luscious food. As one of the servants placed my food in front of me I thanked him.  
  
"We don't normally talk to the help." Rae whispered to me. I'm sure I looked startled, but I nodded.  
  
The meal was absolutely delicious. I savored every bit, fearing I wouldn't eat this well for awhile. In the back of my mind I knew I would be eating like this for a long time, but I decided to ignore that fact. There 3 courses, and by the end of the second, I felt like I was going to burst. I had never eaten so much in one serving.  
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
"I'm starvin'." Snicker complained that night.  
  
"Conlon is out lookin' fer a place dat we can afford tanight." Harold reminded him.  
  
"He's been gone fer at least an hour or two. I should jus' go look fer meself." Snicker rose from the floor, but Sniff pulled him back down.  
  
"Hey, hey, hey! We ain't goin' nowhere." He told the hungry room. "We'se is gonna hafta live wit dis whole window problem fer awhile. Dis is da only way ta fix it. We agreed dat we'd miss a few meals. Now c'mon Conlon's neva failed before he'll be back."  
  
The truth was that the leader of Brooklyn had found them a place that would provide them with some kind of edible food an hour ago. He had simply wanted to be alone. It would have probably been wiser to have gone back to the lodging house sooner, but he didn't. Instead, he wandered around until he found his way to the docks. This was the first place he had seen Brandie. He wasn't paying attention to who Harold was picking on, as long as it didn't spark a fight, which it usually did. He didn't consider this a fight though. A feisty girl had punched Harold in the eye, making him fall backwards, falling into the harbor. It was certainly a sight. She had confidently turned around and waved to the weak applause behind her. She had looked right at him too, still not knowing who he was. Then he remembered seeing the same girl at the distribution office. Then again on the streets. She had bought 3 papes from him, just to get them off his hands. That girl ended up being none other then Brandie.  
  
He smiled to himself. Those had been the days. Now if only this idiot would leave and she could come back. He still had no idea why they had sent her away, but he reasoned that she would be safer. He watched how the moonlight sparkled off of the water. It was beautiful. He wished Brandie were here now, but of course, she wasn't.  
  
Finally, he brought himself to go back to the lodging house and give the boys some food.  
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
After dinner, Medda sang a song or two. I wasn't really listening. I was planing out everything I would say in my head. So far I hadn't gotten anywhere. I couldn't tell her that the marriage was against my will. She was really good friends with this family and I'm sure she would be offended, or she would tell them that that's how I felt. The time finally came, when the Dunstan family and most of the guests had left the room in which Medda was, I acted.  
  
"You sing beautifully." I commented. I had to start the conversation somehow.  
  
"Why thank you." She smiled appreciatively. I took a deep breath.  
  
"I was wondering if you could give a message to Jack Kelly?" I started, hoping she knew who I was talking about. She had to back turned away from me, but instantly turned around when I said that.  
  
"What kind of message kiddo?" She asked.  
  
"Well, could you tell him that Brandie said hi and that she misses him and everyone else?" I asked nervously.  
  
"I'm sure I could." She smiled again, then turned back around. I walked away slowly. I wish I would have had the guts to say more, but I didn't. Hi would have to be good enough for them.  
  
The party lasted another 3 hours. In the midst of it, the engagement was announced, and I think I hugged more people in those last few hours than in my entire life. I showed off the ring too. So many people, mostly ladies, wanted to see it. They told me how lucky I was, and a couple girls my age told me that they were jealous and would do anything to marry him. I almost told them that they could take my place any day, but stopped myself. It's not fair how people like myself got something like this, when all they really want is to be living on the streets with their friends, and other people, like these girls, want something that I have, but they don't get it. I would have gladly given it to them. I would rather live on the streets and be happy then to live in a big house with a rich family and be unhappy.  
  
When the last guest finally left, Adelaide addressed me.  
  
"Tomorrow we will begin plans for the wedding. I want to start promptly at 8:00. I expect you down here at 10 minutes till that time. Is that clear?" She asked. I nodded numbly. Who did she think she was telling me what to do? Why was it so important that we start planning if the wedding wasn't going to be for another 2 years? I would find out in the morning.  
  
My bed was extremely comfortable. I slept like a baby, and would have been late for the wedding planning thingy if one of the servants hadn't have woken me up. I thanked her profusely, as I chose one of the casual dresses my father had bought for me the day before.  
  
"It's alright dat I wear dis righ'?" I asked her, as she was dusting my room. "I mean, should I go fancier?"  
  
"No miss. This is just fine for today." She answered, barely looking up from her work. Instead of choosing a new necklace to wear, I wore the cross necklace that I treasured so dearly. The dress was actually prettier and nicer than any dress I had worn minus the dress I wore last night. It was considered casual, but for me I felt out of place in it. "Better hurry miss, breakfast will be served to you." She told me, ushering me down the steps so I wouldn't be late.  
  
Adelaide was already sitting at the dining table. Frederick wasn't there yet, neither was Emory, or my father. Rae came in at almost the exact time as I did. Adelaide smiled as we sat down.  
  
"Let's just get this done within the next few days, and then we can enjoy our trip without having to fret over wedding details." She explained.  
  
"If I may, when are we leavin'?" I asked.  
  
"A few weeks. Now, we can start before they get here. I need to know how many people you think will be coming from your side." She told me, taking hold of a piece of paper and quill so she could write down the number. I stared in shock. She must not know that I had absolutely no friends that I was going to invite. I could send an invitation to Troy and hope to God that he would come.  
  
"Well, I, I don't really know." This time she stared at me in shock.  
  
"Come on dear, aunts, uncles, cousins, grandmas, grandpas, anyone." She prompted. I thought hard. My grandmother had disowned my mom when she married my father, out of lust of course. My grandpa was already dead, and I had no clue who my dads parents were. My dad was an only child, and I always thought my mom was too. Not like my mother's brothers and sisters would want to come see their niece be married. If I had no aunts and uncles, then I had no cousins. I had no friends other than Arch. I had New York. I had Spot Conlon. I had Jack Kelly, Mush, Racetrack, Sniff, Smalls, Snicker, and even Harold. I didn't think that it would be right for them to come to my wedding. It would only be mocking them really. Spot had already confessed that he loved me. Why on earth would I invite him to my wedding?  
  
"I can only think of one." I said without shame.  
  
"Only one? Who?" She asked, appalled.  
  
"My childhood friend, Archie Amherst." I answered.  
  
"Alright." She said hesitantly. "Your mother won't be coming? We could easily send a message to her in England and tell her the great news." She told me. At first I wanted to hit her for talking about my mother coming to my wedding. Then I realized that this was a perfect opportunity to reveal the real man my father was.  
  
"My mother is dead. She died when I was 5 years old." I replied calmly, waiting for the perfect moment.  
  
"There must be some mistake darling. Your father told me that she was in England. She lives there you know." The fact was I didn't know. I had never heard just an outlandish thing.  
  
"My mudda was shot when I was five by a drunken fool. In fact he wasn't drunk dat night. He jus' fucking shot her!" I screamed. I quickly put my hand over my mouth and dashed out of the room. Adelaide looked as if she had just died. I ran up the stairs and into my room as fast as I could. How could I be such a fool? This would not cancel the engagement, not by a long shot. This would only make her look down on me. Perfect. Just what I needed. I jumped on my bed, crying. The maid was still there. She looked surprised to see me. I wouldn't blame her.  
  
"Is there something wrong Miss Brandie?" She asked me.  
  
"Yeah, yeah dere is. I jus' totally screwed up. I can't do dis. Dis isn't me. I can't live a lie da rest of my life. Help me! I would run away, far away, but my fadda would come after me an' den I would be in deep shit." I clasped my hand over my mouth again. "See, I can't jus' stop. It's jus' who I am." I cried into the satin pillow.  
  
"Miss Brandie, I'm sure the family will understand." She tried to comfort me.  
  
"The family maybe. But not Adelaide, or my father. What's your name?" I asked her. If I was going to have a conversation with her, I needed to know her name. She blushed when I asked her this.  
  
"I don't go by me real name miss. The other servants in the servants quarters call me Cellophane because everyone looks right through me." She blushed again, smiling slightly. Before I could answer her, my dad stormed through the door.  
  
"What do ya tink ya were doin'?" He hollered. Cellophane crept out the door. He grabbed me by the wrist and pulled my face close to his, yelling louder than ever. "Wha' are ya playin' at goil?! Dis could cost ya everything! Every thought of dat?" He spat in my face.  
  
"They'll hear ya! They'll hear ya an' know your only doin' dis fer money. When I die, you ain't gettin' any of it!" I shouted back at him.  
  
"If ya keep dis act up you'll be dead sooner den later!" He yelled back, shoving me onto my bed. He lunged at me, but I ran through his legs, and out the door. Once in the hallway, I yelled to Cellophane.  
  
"Where's the servants quarters?" I asked, still running as he came sprinting out of my bedroom.  
  
"Down the stairs, take a left, then a right. It's on the far end of the house." She shouted after me, jumping out of the way of my father. I picked up my dress, and kicked off my shoes. Huge mistake. Halfway down the hall I felt something hard hit me in the back. I turned around just in time to see a shoe flying out my head. My father had picked up my shoes and had hurled them at me. I ran faster, taking a slight detour through I room I had not discovered yet. Running as fast as I could, I followed the directions that Cellophane had given me. "You're digging your own grave Brandie!" He yelled after me. I turned around to see him run to the kitchen. This didn't stop me though, I continued to run faster, until I finally reached the servants quarters. I bolted through the door, out of breath. I received many odd stares from the servants.  
  
"Um, hello!" I waved. It was just like the time I waved to the Brooklyn newsies at the docks. This brought a smile to my face instead of tearful memories to my mind. "I'm Brandie Foster, nice to meet you all!" I smiled at them. None of the stares changed.  
  
"May we help you miss?" A boy that looked slightly older than me asked. I sat down on one of their beds.  
  
"No. I was jus' runnin' from me fadda." I sighed, stretching out on the bed.  
  
"The masters don't usually talk to us, let alone visit us in here." A young girl Rae's age explained. That told me everything, all the odd stares.  
  
"Why not? Ya people are humans too ain't ya?" I asked, looking up at them. They all nodded. "Den I don't see no problem wit it." I assured them. Somehow I actually got them to talk to me. It was a rather interesting conversation. They were telling me about the family and how phoney my father would act in front of the Dunstans. I was laughing when the door burst open, revealing my father, knife in hand.  
  
"Come here you stupid, stupid fool!" He lunged at me. I quickly jumped up in fear, not having enough time to wave to my newly found friends. I ran for my life, literally. He was seriously going to murder me. I knew I couldn't run around this forsaken house much longer, instead, I knew I would have a better chance escaping in the streets. This was my chance. For some strange reason, I looked at this situation happily. I could run out of here, and somehow go back to New York, after throwing my father in jail for attempted murder, just like Troy.  
  
**a/n**  
  
A little shorter than most of my chapters, and ended suddenly I know. Hopefully you are in suspense. I am sorry for the sudden ending of this chapter, but I wanted to give you all something to read. I did in fact start a new story, and need to update that one, and I also should finish a songfic that I started, but I am rather busy at the moment.  
  
You see I was asked to write the script for a movie entitled _"Dracula"_ the title may change later. I am the screenwriter, co-producer, and co- director, as well as one of the leading roles in the movie. I am also being swamped with end of the year projects, and then of course finals. There is also an idea for a new story that may include a casting call that is nagging at my mind. I want to start it soon, but I have been so busy. Hopefully the next chapter will be done soon, but as you can tell I am extremely busy, and will do my best to complete it quickly! Thanks for your support, and as usual, the regular shout-outs!  
  
**Tiggerbaby2430:** Thanks for the review. I am so glad that you liked the last chapter. I hope you enjoyed this one just as much! Rae is adorable, I love her. I apologize for the shortness and the cut off, but I know what I am going to write! Hope you review for this chapter! Thanks!  
  
**Pyro:** Yeah, I think she should be with Spot too. Hehe! They should come to save her, though I am not promising anything! I'm glad you liked the last chapter. I hope you are satisfied with this one. It is kinda short, but I know you guys wanted to read the next chapter, and I think that I have kept you all waiting too long! Hope you like it!  
  
**BlackWiltedRose:** I am soo thrilled that you like my story! I want the newsies to come save her too! That would be awesome! I thank you for your review and hope that you review this one too. I also hope that you can stand the wait from this chapter to the next LoL! I am terribly sorry, I will try my hardest to finish it soon!  
  
**Amour89:** New reviewer YAY! You get a cookie for being new. I am sooooooo glad that you like my story! Sorry for the long wait. I am soo busy and I hate being busy you know. School is almost out though, 11 more days then I am free! Hope you liked this chapter! Thanks for reviewing!  
  
**Vinnie Monfredo:** OHH I am soo glad that you came back and reviewed! Hehe! Yay! I am thrilled that you love it so much. I love yours too! Yours is so much better though! Hurry along with it! You get the cookie for best reviewer that time around. You really think I could win stuff if I entered in newspapers and stuff? Wow! Thankies so much for the review, hope you review again! Lol!  
  
**THANKS TO ALL OF YOU FOR REVIEWING AND READING! I WILL HURRY WITH THE NEXT ONE, TIME PERMITTING LOL! Read my songfics if your bored lol! Thanks again love ya bunches!  
**  
Till next time, padfootismyhero (No this is not goodbye just, I don't know how long it will be till the next chapter..not more than a month god-willing lol!)  
  
**p.s.** _sorry if there is spelling mistakes, I am too busy to go back through to proofread lol! Sorry!_


	14. Broken Promise

Spot's Milkshake  
  
Chapter Fourteen: Broken Promises  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own newsies, Disney does..I do own Brandie, Cellophane and the servants, and the Dunstan family.  
  
Once on the streets, safely hidden from my father, I slowed my pace. If I stayed in the streets much longer he was bound to find me. I had decided that going back to New York would be fateful. He would know automatically know that I would go there, and undoubtably, he would follow. I would simply wait it out. After a couple of weeks or so, it would be safe to go back and life would be good. In the mean time, I wandered a little ways off, into a nearby woods.  
  
The clouds were covering the sun now, and the bustling noise of the town was becoming distant as I walked further and further into the woods. A snake slithered past my feet as I recoiled away from it. If I only hated one thing, it was snakes. I walked cautiously after that, looking down at my feet at all times. To my surprise, the woods ended suddenly. It opened into a lake. I sat on a large rock and wondered about the future. Would I really get to go back to New York? My question was about to be answered. To my horror, I heard footsteps coming my way. In a mad attempt to survive, I picked up some rocks and chucked them at the approaching body. It yelled out as I connected. Coming out of the shadows was Frederick.  
  
"Oh my god! I'm so sorry!" I rushed over to him, not knowing what to do. I didn't feel entirely comfortable around him yet.  
  
"It's ok." He assured me, rubbing his head. "You've got a good aim." He laughed. I joined in uneasily.  
  
"You come afta me?" I asked him. His tone changed to a serious one.  
  
"Yeah. I thought it would be better if I found you and not my dad or your dad." He said sympathetically. I wanted to tell him about everything. My dad, my life, my feelings, my problems, but somehow I held back.  
  
"Your dad's mad too?" I asked quietly. He nodded. "Look, I'm really sorry." I paused, did he even know what I was apologizing for? "I, well, it's habit. I can't always control it. She was talkin' bout my mom though." I said, tears welling up in my eyes. I normally didn't cry over such childish issues, but this was different. He looked at me through concerned eyes.  
  
"Well, your mom is in England, and she was surprised when you claimed that she had died." He took a step closer. I did not back away.  
  
"I didn't claim anything. It's da truth. I was afraid ta expose 'im. But, it was me dad who murdered her. Why do ya t'ink he told ya dat crap about her alive an' well in Europe." I confessed quietly, my voice rising by the sentence. He looked at me, astonished, then, surprisingly, he asked me a question I thought no one would ask.  
  
"You don't want this life, do you?" He turned to me. His icy green eyes piercing my soul, looking for the answer. I didn't hesitate to tell him the truth.  
  
"Of course not. I was gonna run back ta New Yawk, but I knew my fadda would go dere foist." I looked down at my feet.  
  
"Well, you'd be right. He left just minutes after he found out you did. He said he was heading for New York. He said that that's where he found you." He stared at me curiously. I knew he wanted me to confess and tell him everything. I did. I explained everything that I knew of my childhood, including the murder of my mother and darling Annalise. I told him about Arch and how I had thought that I loved him. He betrayed me, though I wouldn't mind to see his smiling face again. Then, I told him about Brooklyn, and all the friends I had made there. I told him about the incident with the Tabernaks, about Sniff, Pouncher, Snicker, Troy, Harold, Race, Mush, Kid Blink, Jack, and then, I told him about Spot Conlon. I knew I was rambling, but he looked interested. I even told him about the icy blue eyes that Spot had, and how I had kissed him. When I was done, I looked anxiously at him. He didn't appear mad at me, in fact his response surprised me.  
  
"Then why don't you go back?" He asked, eyes twinkling. I stared at him, bewildered.  
  
"S'cuse me?" I asked, mouth gaping open.  
  
"Just go then. I'll even help you. But first, would you just give me a chance? I want to get to know you better." He said, inching even closer. I stared at him. He was going to help me. I could just fake the next few days or so, and then BAM, I was out of here!  
  
"Sure." I told him, tensing as he leaned into me, planting his lips on mine. I couldn't believe this. I had just told him about Spot, and he was kissing me. I didn't pull away though. I let him continue. His hands moved to my waist, and then done to my butt. I flinched a little. I could hear him laugh merrily. I was starting to sweat as he continued to deepen the kiss. Not wanting to pull away, or more because I couldn't, I just stood there. Finally, he pulled away, smiling at me. I tried to smile back, but couldn't. He blushed.  
  
"Look, uh, that was for, well, just in case it's the only time I get to kiss you. If everything goes as you want it to, well, I'm sure you and Spot will live happily ever after." He smiled again. I was rather confused with him at the moment, but took his hand as he lead me back to the house.  
  
-----------------------3 weeks later---------------------------  
  
They had just packed the last of their possessions. I was in my room crying my heart out. I hadn't seen Frederick for days. I had just figured out yesterday that I had been tricked. He never intended on taking me back to Brooklyn. He just told me that to make me hold out. The only good news was that Adelaide understood my outburst, and had forgiven me. Emory was a little harder to convince, but it worked, and he banished my father from the house. This had brought joy to my heart, although it was my father who had gotten me into this mess. Cellophane was to join us on the trip. I was very delighted to hear this because we had become fast friends. Not all the servants were to accompany us. Only the most trusted ones. I didn't know if she was a trusted servant, but she was my personal assistant, therefore was permitted to join us. Rae was someone that I could confide in too, luckily. I never told her about the incident between her brother and me, though I was tempted many times.  
  
"Come Mistress Foster, it is time to leave." Cellophane called in her misty voice. She had only ever called me Brandie once. I had savored that moment. Drying my eyes, I lifted myself from the ever comforting bed. I looked in the nearby mirror and gasped as I saw myself. My eyes were red and puffy, and my hair was not as silky as it had been that morning. Cellophane, whose real name was Johanna, brushed her fingers through it, making it look better. I thanked her and slowly walked out the door.  
  
Rae was waiting at the bottom of the steps for me, smiling. She was very excited about this trip. Deep down, I was too, but right now the pain of a broken promise surfaced over excitement. I caught sight of Frederick, who had been cleverly avoiding me. I shot him a nasty glare, which he noticed.  
  
"Come now, our first stop is Tennessee. We have relatives there." Adelaide informed me. I smiled weakly. Emory handed me a ticket for the train we would be taking there. I knew this whole 'exploring the country' thing was going to take at least 2 years. How pleasant. I thought to myself, stepping up into the carriage. I was seated next to Frederick, no surprise there.  
  
I watched as the manor faded into the back round as we pulled out of the drive. The only positive thing about this, was that I wouldn't have to put up with my father.  
  
**a/n**  
  
Yep, very short I know. I am going to Michigan for the day tomorrow for some NASCAR activities, but I will be back Saturday. I was going to have this updated at the beginning of the week, but I got grounded, and well, I couldn't. Now I have. I know it's short, but I had to give you something. Hope you all like it.  
  
**I NEED YOUR HELP!**

From here on out (at least for awhile) it's gonna get boring writing about their trips around the country..so I need your opinion.

1. I can continue to write about Brandie and her trips (this might get boring, I have no clue what I would write about)

2. I can write about Brooklyn and what they are doing throughtout the 2 years and flashback to Brandie sometimes (she won't be forgotten!)

3. I can just skip right to 2 years later and the trip is finishing up.

Please include your answer in your review..it would help a lot! I would do shoutouts..but I have to go and then vacation tomorrow, so if you want an update, no shoutouts this chapter! well...i can't resist!

(sorry for any spelling errors in the chappie..it was kinda rushed)

SHOUTOUTS:

THANKS TO EVERYONE THAT REVIEWED! I LOVE YOU TIMES ONE MILLION! THANKS SOOO MUCH FOR REVIEWING I HOPE YOU LIKED THIS CHAPTER AND REVIEW IT! LOVE YA BUNCHES!

Review :)


	15. Return

Spot's Milkshake  
  
Chapter Fifteen: Return   
  
Disclaimer: Did you really think I owned all this? laughs Well you would be wrong. Nothing belongs to me, except Brandie, the Dunstans, and some of the Brooklyn newsies mentioned.  
  
A/N: this is padfootismyhero. I just changed my penname  
  
**1904, Manhattan, New York, 4 years after Brandie 'disappeared'  
**  
"Would ya all shut ya pie holes an' back away?" Jack Kelly shouted over the heads of his Manhattan newsies. He was just as anxious as they were to see the newborn baby from Brooklyn.  
  
Smalls Boyd, formally Smalls Rivera, had given birth to a healthy baby boy. She, along with her new husband, Sniff, had named him Emil Ace Boyd. He had some curly black hair, like his mother. His eyes were brown, like his dad. Not many Brooklyn boys were there in Manhattan that day, for they had already seen the baby. The Manhattan newsies, however, had not had the privilege.  
  
"Aw, ain't he jus' da cutest little t'ing in da whole woild?" Mush said aloud. Kid Blink gave him an odd look. "Well he is!" Mush defended himself.  
  
"So, is dis da reason ya married 'er? Knocked 'er up eh?" Race whispered to Sniff, who smacked him in the back of the head. "Ow, watch wheah ya throw yer arm." He told him, walking away, grinning. Sniff shook his head and laughed.  
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Spot Conlon stared blankly out the window. Life was going pretty well, except for one minor issue. Troy McAllister. He had been out of the refuge for almost 3 years now, but he hadn't been a problem. Now, he was. He was always staring at Spot and some of his close friends in an odd, threatening way whenever he gave them his papes. He always had a chance to harass someone. Or, he used to. Sniff had quit his job at the distribution center because of Troy. He stayed with his second job as a newsie, but now his family was struggling greatly. Some of the newsboys helped out, but it just wasn't enough sometimes. He and Smalls went hungry some nights so Emil could have food. Any parent would do this.  
  
Spot stared out the window that had been broken previously by Troy himself. It was now fixed, and better then ever. Spot had had many confrontations with the boy, and none went so well. One of them, usually Troy, ended up with a black eye and a couple of bruises.  
  
"Whatcha t'inkin' bout Conlon?" A dark voice asked from the inky shadows behind him.  
  
"Life." He responded, knowing very well who was addressing him. "An' yourself Harold?" He smiled a bit.  
  
"Life? Since when does a newsboy such as yaself t'ink bout life? Only when he is gonna settle down wit a family, dat's when." Harold answered his own question, smirking at the lone Brooklyn leader.  
  
"I is not gonna marry, bastard! I t'ink I have told ya dat 5 times within two days." He replied, his voice rising a bit.  
  
"But ya were." Harold said softly, knowing this was not an area in the mighty leader of Brooklyn's life that should be tampered with. There was a long pause, and then Spot's icy voice filled the room.  
  
"Dat's history."  
  
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**1908 Manhattan, New York  
**  
"Well here we are! Gorgeous New York." Frederick Dunstan took a deep breath of the New York air. He leaned over and whispered to his companion, "I told you we would come here." He smiled, and kissed her tenderly on the cheek.  
  
Brandie Dunstan, a mere woman of 24, picked up her eldest daughter out of the carriage and placed her on the ground.  
  
"Mum, I wanna go over there." Brianna Diane pointed to the Horace Greely statue in the middle of the street.  
  
"In a moment darling." Brandie told her. She leaned back into the carriage and pulled out her youngest daughter, who was only one year old.  
  
"Why don't you take Brianna site- seeing and I will take Terra to the hotel, and we will wait for your return. Besides, it's almost time for her nap." Frederick motioned to Terra, who was beginning to close her eyes.  
  
"Are, are you sure you want _me_ to take her site-seeing?" Brandie asked hesitantly. He nodded to her.  
  
"I thought you knew this place well." He smiled, getting back into the carriage and riding off in the other direction, leaving Brandie dumbstruck.  
  
"C'mon mom." Brianna tugged on her mother's hand. Turning to face her, she took her hand and led her to the statue.....  
  
Brandie's POV

I took Brianna to the statue that she wanted to see, still thinking about why we were here. We had no family here, but Brianna and Freddy had wanted to see the sites. He had such an influence on her. She was only four years old, but she talked about all the splendors of New York like her father did. I was sucked back into reality by the silence I now encountered. I spun around, but saw no Brianna.  
  
"Damn." I muttered, clamping a hand over my mouth. I hadn't spoken like that for years, why now? It was this city that made me do such things, but I wouldn't realize that until later.  
  
"Brianna! Brianna where are you?" I shouted out into the streets, which were as crowded as I remembered them to be. I frantically looked around for her. She knew better than to run off like that, especially in a place that wasn't familiar.  
  
After several minutes of a panicked, unsuccessful search, I spotted her. She was talking to three men. Feeling that my daughter was being threatened, I quickly rushed over to her.  
  
"Excuse me, but I'll be taking back my daughter now." I told them coldly. All three looked up at me instantly, alarmed that I had spoken to them.  
  
"Sorry miss." Was all that was said at first. I think they were at a loss for words.  
  
"Mummy, they were just telling me how to get to Central Park." Brianna pleaded for them. I nodded my approval.  
  
"I think I can find it myself, I am rather familiar with this city." I told them, taking her hand and leading her away. Not before the man in the middle could smirk at me. I felt my cheeks become hot, but continued walking, ignoring his behavior.  
  
"You know better than to talk to strangers." I scolded her. She lowered her head.  
  
"I'm sorry, but they seemed nice, and they showed me where that park is. Have you seen it before mommy?" She asked me. I winced, but told her the truth.  
  
"Yes I have."  
  
"Course she has." A voice behind us said. Brianna turned around first, I followed her lead. One of the men, the one that had smirked at me, was behind us. Anger rose inside of me.  
  
"And just how would you know?" I asked, venom dripping with every word I spoke. He paused at this, and stopped walking towards us.  
  
"I wouldn't. I jus' thought dat ya would like ta know dat horse numba 7 'as been doin' me a woild o' good." He smiled, then turned and walked away.  
  
At that moment, it felt as if someone had dropped a hundred pound weight on my heart. I watched him, and with every step he took, my heart beat just one more beat faster. Without hesitation, I yelled after him. "That old thing still races?" I tried to smile, but I couldn't. He turned around and faced me, laughing. A thousand memories came back to me when I heard the sound come off his lips. Forgetting where I was, or that Brianna was standing next to me, I ran up to him and hugged him as tight as I had ever hugged anyone. Tears streamed down my face as I cried into his shoulder. I thought I heard him try to say something, but failed to do so.  
  
"Racetrack Higgins." I breathed. I could feel him nod his reply. Finally, we pulled away.  
  
"So, ya decided ta come back?" He asked, observing me, then looked down at my side, at Brianna. I knew what he was thinking, and I could tell he was shocked.  
  
"Yeah." That was all I said. I really didn't know what else to say.  
  
"Mommy, why are you hugging that stranger?" Brianna asked me. I smiled down at her.  
  
"This man isn't a stranger. He's an old friend. Bri, I would like you to meet Mr. Racetrack Higgins." I wiped my eyes, and smiled as she stuck out her hand to shake his.  
  
"A pleasure ta meet ya. How so much you look like ya mudda." He observed aloud. She blushed at him and hid her face behind me. He laughed, then leaned in and whispered. "You're not da kind o' person ta take responsibility like dis." He seriously. I looked at him, sorrow filled his eyes.  
  
"Things have changed." I said sadly, looking away from him.  
  
"I could be ya tour guide taday ladies." He said bowing. I laughed, and so did Brianna.  
  
"I, well I don't think that would be a good idea. If someone saw us.."I trailed off. I think he understood what I meant though. He nodded.  
  
"Wait, would ya jus' come an' see da guys?" He asked me, his eyes pleading. I wanted to so badly. If I had been asked this question eight years ago, I would have said yes right away, but that was then, and this was now. I was changed now, different, not who I was then. I thought for awhile. It wouldn't really hurt anything would it? They were old friends, and I might only get this chance once.  
  
"Alright." I looked up at him and smiled. His mouth broke into a smile instantly as he grabbed my hand and dragged me to the lodging house.  
  
"Do you think they will remember me?" I asked quietly as we approached. He nodded. As his hand went towards the handle, I became afraid. Memories were rushing back to me, feelings I hadn't felt for years were being felt again. It was agonizing. I remembered how terrible it had felt when I was forced to leave, how I longed to come back. I feared the same thing would happen if I went in there. Before I could change my mind, Race opened the door, and pushed me in. No one noticed at first, which gave me time so say something to him. "You're too old to be newsies aren't you?" I whispered. He nodded again, leading me into a room full of older men, much like himself.  
  
"Kloppman didn't wanna let us go, so he built dis room fer us older boys dat can't find wives." He winked.  
  
"That'll be about all of you huh?" I asked him, looking in the room, and seeing it filled with boys. He laughed. Some boys looked our way. I wasn't sure if they recognized me or not, they looked confused. Either they didn't know why a girl was there, or they couldn't believe it was me. A very handsome man, with a familiar red bandana around his neck walked up to me. I knew who it was immediately. I smiled at him, trying to jog his memory.  
  
"Well, well, well, if it ain't miss mornin' face 'erself." He said embracing me. "An' who is dis purty little t'ing?" He asked, kneeling down next to Brianna.  
  
"Tell him." I prompted her.  
  
"Brianna Dunstan." She said shyly. Jack looked up at me , then back at her.  
  
"An' is dis ya mudda?" He asked. She nodded. He pondered a moment. "An' ya 'ave a fadda too?" He asked, staring up at me. I winced as she nodded again. He looked down, then stood up. "Nice ta 'ave ya back." He said, almost sarcastically. I felt like hitting him, but held back. What was my problem. I thought I had been cured of my 'New York infatuation.' That was what Adelaide had called it. She and Rae had helped me 'overcome' that certain obstacle in my life. She must have known that she did not do a good job of it, because she protested my coming here. I was almost hoping I wouldn't have to. I was afraid of them now the newsies. Afraid that they would take me from my family. No, that was Adelaide talking now. She had brainwashed me, and told me horrible things about the newsies of New York. But what did she know, she was just a rich, hoity toity snob. But then, what was I?  
  
**a/n**  
  
Well, what did you think? I had soo much fun writing this chapter! I am sure that I will have fun with the next one too..hehe!  
  
Like the little twist I put in? Eight years into the future, not 2! I changed my mind right as I began writing. It would make sense though. She is married, and has two children, a four year old and a one year old. How happy eh?  
  
-silence-

OH SHUT UP WILL YOU?! ITS NOT MY FAULT! JUST BECAUSE I AM THE FRICKING AUTHOR DOESN'T MEAN I MADE THE STORY COME TO THIS DOES IT? looks around ****

**Shoutouts:  
**  
**Coin:** Thanks for the advice! Nice use of Spanish I believe it was! Thanks for reviewing!  
  
**Tiggerbaby2430:** Glad you liked the last chapter, hope you liked this one! Thanks for the input for the 2 year thingy! Thank you for reviewing, hope you review this one!  
  
**Pyro:** Yes, depressing! This one, well I thought it was sad cuz she was kinda brainwashed with the whole, New York infatuation thing. Thank you for reviewing, hope you like this chapter!  
  
**Vinnie Monfredo:** haha, dicky Freddy, dicky Freddy! Heh! Well, I hope to show his change in the next few chapters, he's really not so bad cough well if you minus the whole 'forced marriage' and stuff like that! Thanks for reviewing, hope you liked this one! Thanks for the quote too, I really liked it!  
  
**BlackWiltedRose:** Do you like what I decided to do with it? I hope so, I actually am quite please with the result! Thanks for your input, it helped a lot! I hope you like this chapter and review again! It means a lot!


	16. Romance Rekindled

Spot's Milkshake  
  
Chapter Sixteen: Romance Rekindled   
  
Disclaimer: You would think by now I would have the rights to Newsies. Well sorry to inform you, but I don't! So just be happy that I do own the main character Brandie.  
  
We had been talking for at least two hours now. At first I was afraid Brianna would be bored, but she seemed interested with it all. Racetrack had since chewed on at least two cigars, and Kid Blink kept scratching his eye patch. Jack was eyeing me awful funny and I was becoming quite annoyed with it.  
  
"So den, I picked 'im up an' told him ta stay away from me goil." Mush concluded his story about an incident that happened a couple of nights ago. Jack started to say something directed towards me, but was interrupted by the sound of the door being opened. I figured it was one of the younger newsies going up to the bunkroom, but it wasn't.  
  
"Jus' felt like droppin' by."An all to familiar voice said. I heard footsteps coming towards us. Everyone looked up and smiled at the newcomer. I strained my head to see who it was too. My heart froze over when the stranger walked into the room. I scooted a little back on the bed, hoping I would not be seen. Racetrack threw me a wild look, along with Mush, and Skittery. Jack and the new boy spit shook, as did a couple other of the boys. No one told him of my presence, for he was Spot Conlon.  
  
I wasn't hidden for long though. He scanned the room, as if he hadn't seen them for ages. He smiled at most, but when he got to me, he stopped. My heart fell to my stomach, as it beat faster. His mouth started to gape open. Everyone was now looking at me. I could feel my cheeks become redder as his eyes got wider and he about fell over. All the while, Race was watching me intently. I wanted to run out of the room and back to the hotel Freddy was at. I didn't want to have to face this.  
  
"M-M-Milkshake?" He stuttered. I gasped. I had almost forgotten that name, but somehow nodded. He stared at me for a long time, then, finally managed to say something. "So ya finally decided ta come back!" It was more of a yell then anything else. With that he stormed out of the Lodging House, creating quite a scene. A couple younger newsies shot their head in the room and looked at us.  
  
"Get outta heah." Jack told them. "No fights taday." He smiled a bit at me. Race looked over at me and motioned his head towards the door. I shook my head.  
  
"Yes." He told me bluntly. I picked Brianna up and put her in Race's lap, and then I headed to the door. I had no idea what I was going to say, or why I listened to Race, but I did and that was that.  
  
I pushed open the Lodging House door and looked around. There he was, pacing right outside the door. He hadn't really aged a bit, and I was pleased to see the same gold-tipped cane in his belt loop, and had a slingshot in a pocket. He wore the same cabby hat as he had the last time I saw him. He looked the same, except he was a little taller.  
  
"What do ya want?" He asked me coldly. I just stared at him, not knowing what to say. "Grown up I see." He looked me up and down, pure hatred in his eyes. I took a step forward towards him, making the hatred flash dangerously. I didn't know if I needed to apologize, so I simply started making small conversation, hoping to break the ice.  
  
"So, how have you been?" I asked softly. He looked at me wildly, the fire in his eyes dimmed a bit, but soon reappeared.  
  
"Not really ya place ta ax now is it?" He asked me. I tried to ignore his stubbornness, but it was difficult.  
  
"I don't see why it wouldn't be my place to ask." I told him boldly.  
  
"Don't see how it's not ya place?" He repeated angrily, taking the cane out of his belt loop. "Ya t'ink ya can take off an' leave us all heah, not tellin' us wheah da hell ya is goin'. Ya disappeared from da face of da Earth! Den, ya 'ave the courage ta come stompin' back heah an' throw us all in da whirlwind of hell like before!" He said to me, impressively keeping his voice to an indoor level. He took a step closer to me, still fuming.  
  
"Look, I wouldn't have come back, it's just my husband wanted to visit the city and.." I started, but he interrupted me.  
  
"Husband?" He stammered. I knew I had said the wrong thing.  
  
"Ya, ya is married?" He asked, coming even closer, but then backed away. "Ran off wit some long lost childhood boyfriend?" He interrogated further.  
  
"NO!" I shouted, temper now raised. "You don't even know the half of it!" I turned around, ready to go get Brianna and leave, but he grabbed me by the arm, and turned me to face him.  
  
"I t'ink I wanna know da half of it." He told me quietly, looking quite sincere. For the first time I had been around him, he smiled. I smiled back, truly happy that his anger had seemed to subside.  
  
"We can go back ta da Brooklyn Lodging House." He told me, taking my hand as he lead me there.  
  
Halfway across the Brooklyn Bridge, I let go of his hand. He didn't seem to notice, and if he did, he said nothing. I couldn't risk anyone I might now see us hand in hand. If Frederick ever found out, we would be over.  
  
Finally, after what seemed like ages, we arrived at the Brooklyn Lodging House. He too was too old to be a newsie, but I wondered why he was still here. There was no extra room like there was in the Manhattan Lodging House. Instead of leading me up to the familiar bunkroom that he had all those years ago, he took me to a small room that looked like a previous sickroom.  
  
"Gots meself my own room." He said smiling. "Nuttin impressive, but I ain't out ta entertain." I had a million things I wanted to ask him, but that wasn't why we were here. "So, why was ya heah anyways?" He asked, trying to be patient.  
  
"My husband wanted to see the city. I wasn't even meaning to go to the lodging house, but Racetrack took me there." I told him. He stared at me for a long time, his blue eyes unwavering. I didn't break his gaze, it felt a little awkward sitting in a small room with a past love in my life. Finally, he broke the silence.  
  
"So wha's da half I don't know?" He asked me. And so I began my poor pathetic story about my father, and the forced marriage. I told about everyone and everything that had happened in the past eight years. At times I found myself crying exceptionally hard, and in the arms of Spot. I wouldn't want to pull away, but I knew that I had to.  
  
When I was finished, he looked at me pitifully.  
  
"I'm, I'm so sorry." He said hoarsely.  
  
"It's not your fault." I tried to comfort him.  
  
"No, I s'pose it's not. But, but I thought so many horrible t'ings bout ya, an' what ya was doin." He said, putting his head in his hands. I didn't want to think about what he thought, or what he told people. Instead I changed the subject.  
  
"So, still the infamous leader of Brooklyn, or do you lose that when you get too old?" I asked him. It took him awhile to answer. When he finally did look up, his face was streaked with tears. I didn't know he could cry.  
  
"I passed it on ta anudder kid. Nuttin good lasts anyways." He said slowly, looking at me for my reaction. I couldn't really believe it, but said nothing. "I'se really sorry bout everyt'ing." He said to me. I nodded my acceptance. "But I promised dat I would come back fer ya, an' da next t'ing I know, ya wasn't in ya little town ya told me bout. I was fer sure ya had ditched me fer some idiot, or ya was out sellin' yaself." He told me. "I started ta doubt ya. Doubt dat ya really did love me. I still hoped dat ya would come back. But afta awhile, it was hopeless." He would have kept going, but he looked at me, and stopped suddenly.  
  
"I guess ya would want ta see everyone else huh?" He asked, regaining his composure immediately.  
  
"No. Not yet." I told him. "I want to know some things first, if that's alright." I added.  
  
"Wha' can I help ya wit doll?" He asked, leaning back against his bed post. He was his old self again.  
  
"First, what ever happened to the Tabernaks?" I asked, mimicking him, by also leaning back on the opposite bed post.  
  
"Tabernak...Tabernak." He thought aloud, scratching his chin. "Oh those two. Da mista 'ad a heart attack couple o' years back. I ain't so sure he made it." He said, pausing a moment. "Any more of ya questions?" He asked, smirking.  
  
"Could you tell me about everything that has happened here in the past eight years?" I asked again, scratching my chin just as he had done. He laughed at my antics.  
  
"I'se could give it a shot." He said, this time actually looking like he was thinking. "Wheah should I start?"  
  
"Brooklyn, then move into Manhattan." I replied, eager to hear what he had to say.  
  
"Alrigh'. Let's start wit Snicker. Ya 'member him?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Uh huh, well his luck went downhill a couple o' months afta ya left. He stopped sellin' like he normally did. His attitude changed a bit, an' he stopped participatin' in our pokah games. We'se was all concerned fer 'im, but den it seemed like it would be ok cause he met a goil. Dey fell in love an' he seemed to be back on track. Den da little slut left 'im. He went downhill from dere, an' neva really did recovah. He left da lodgin' house 3 years ago. 'Haven't seen much of 'im, cept fer da one time I'se seen 'im in da streets. Looked purdy bad he did." He told me gravely. He didn't wait for a response, instead he moved right into the next story.  
  
"Now, fer Pouncher, ya remember him?" He asked. I smiled when he mentioned the name. "Righ' well he's been doin' jus' fine really. He's jus' kinda dere ya know. Da kind of person dat doesn't 'ave much ta do, so he jus' sits dere, ready ta solve any problem dat life throws ya way. He was doin' dat twelve years ago when I'se met 'im, an' he still does it ta dis day." Spot gloated about his friend. "I'se almost appointed 'im da leadah o' Brooklyn, but decided against it, only cause of his age an' all. He's a year youngah den me. Too old really. He needs a life of his own, not lookin' out fer ouddah's." Not pausing again, he continued.  
  
"Now, about Sniff." He paused uncertain at first, then swallowed painfully. "Well, he was always me righ' hand man he was. Harold too." Again he paused, a grim look appeared on his face, but it soon left. "Well, Sniff, Sniff has some problems on his hands at da moment." He stopped again, choking up a bit.  
  
"What's wrong? What happened?" I panicked. He shallowed again, putting on a hard face. "Sniff went off an' got married ta an old friend of yours. Smalls." He smiled. "Dey had a little baby boy, an' named 'im Emil. He should be four now. I saw dem a couple o' weeks ago. Haven't really had da heart ta go back."  
  
"They have their own place?" I asked. He nodded.  
  
"Everyt'ing had been fine, until last month or two. Smalls had been feelin' a little undah da weather. Sniff got a doctah ta see her, an' found out dat she wasn't jus' a little undah da weather, she was very ill. Dere's no cure da doc says. Sniff is really havin' a hard time. Emil is scared all da time. I know I should be dere ta support dem, but it's jus' so hard." He told me, choking up again. I scooted a little closer.  
  
"It's alright. It'll be alright." I rubbed his back, trying to comfort him. He looked up at me, his beautiful blue eyes filled with tears. I knew I shouldn't have, but I did it anyways. I leaned in and kissed his cheek gently.  
  
"Wha' was dat fer?" He asked, quite shocked.  
  
"To show you we are still friends." I told him, doing it again. I don't know why I was still attracted to him, but I was. He must have known that it was really more then a friendship smack on the cheek, but he didn't say anything about it. That was his first mistake.  
  
"Friends? Dat's good." He said, getting closer to me. Here comes my mistake. I didn't move away. I felt his hand find my cheek. It pulled my face closer to his. I longed for what was next, but luckily, he had the sense to pull away. "Still dat dumb broad eh?" He asked me, smirking.  
  
"What?" I inquired angrily.  
  
"Ya got a husband, an' I is assumin' some kids. Why da hell would ya be hittin' on me?" He asked me seriously. I could only stare at him. Had I not just told him why I was married and why I had kids? He continued before I could answer him. "Ya must love dis Frederick guy. I know ya. Ya won't stand fer anyt'ing ya don't like" He tried to smirk but failed. "Dere ain't no way I'm gonna let ya kiss me." He said, with sincerity. I frowned, making him smile for real.  
  
"But, you know you want to." I tried on him. It didn't work. He just shook his head, the smile still planted on his face.  
  
"Ya'se talkin' like a little goil." He teased. I tried to force a smile, I think I managed enough to satisfy him. "Now, unto Harold. Bet ya is anxious ta hear bout 'im." He said, grinning.  
  
"Not really." I told him half heartedly. He just continued to grin at my statement.  
  
"Well, Harold's still his same self. But he's a good friend ya know. I'se had ta keep him in line like usual. But nuttin's changed about him." He told me, closing his eyes for a few minutes, taking as much time as he pleased.  
  
"Enough bout Brooklyn, hows about going onto Manhattan?" He asked, opening one eye. I nodded. He closed his eye again, and started to tell stories about the Manhattan boys, almost as if he had practiced saying this before.  
  
"Mush. Cute little Mush. So adorable, right? Maybe not. Da guy's a player. Hell of a good one, but a player none the less. Broke alota goils hearts. None ever got around ta forgivin' him. Hard ta sit around him now. I mean, sure, I've dated some pretty good goils in my day, and broken some of dere hearts, but only cause it wasn't woikin' out. I know wha' it's like ta dump em, but really, cheatin' on dem? Even I ain't like dat." He recited to me. I shook my head, disappointed in Mush.  
  
"Den, dere's Kid Blink. He tried ta be good like Race. In gamblin' I mean. Didn't woik. He lost almost all of his money in the foist 5 months. He gambled it all away. At least Race conserved, to an extent. So now, Blink is in da poor house. I hear old Kloppman is still lettin him an' Race stay in da lodging house fer no pay." He smirked. Lucky ol' boys dem two were." He finally opened his eyes and looked at me. Probably for my reaction yet again. I didn't say anything, but inside I was scared for Racetrack. Was he hinting that Race, like Kid Blink, had lost everything?  
  
"Jacky-boy" Spot started, chuckling as he said his name. "Jack's normal. Fer awhile dere, he wouldn't stop talkin' bout ya. It got ta be irritating afta awhile. Not cause it was bout you, jus' cause I was already missin' ya pretty bad an' it didn't help if he was talkin' bout ya 24/7. He didn't really change. Got a little more arrogant, but nothing wrong with that." He winked, closing his eyes again. Finally I spoke.  
  
"He seemed upset that I had kids and that I was married." I started, explaining my confusion to him.  
  
"I always thought he had a crush on ya. I just got ta ya foist." He laughed. "I'm sure you'll be interested ta hear bout Racetrack." He said, raising an eyebrow at me, as if he had asked a question. I nodded quickly. "Well, he got too cocky. Unlike Blink though, he conserved his money." He paused, giving me time to say something.  
  
"Why doesn't he just make more?"  
  
"He can't. Dey kicked 'im outta da racetracks, an' he jus' kinda gave up his gamblin' life afta dat." He frowned. "Seems cheerful huh?" He asked me, a nod wouldn't get me past this question.  
  
"Yeah, same old Race." I responded, he shook his head.  
  
"Not da same old Race. He's terrible. Always mopin' around. It ain't healthy I'se sure." He stopped again, looking anxiously at me. "Do ya t'ink ya could help him?" He leaned closer, not to kiss me, but to look at my every move. I nodded slowly. "We're here for a week."  
  
a/n  
  
Well, finally done. Too long? Too short? You like it? Hope so. Some parts are a bit odd for me, but that's natural, I am the author! I'll try to go faster with the next chapter! Sorry for spelling mistakes!  
  
Shoutouts:  
  
**Coin:** Yeah, that was a cute part. I am really glad you like my story! It gives me confidence! Hope you liked this chapter! Thanks for reviewing last chapter! Have fun in Ireland!  
  
**Tiggerbaby2430:** I got them back for you! YAY! I was planning on it anyways. More Spot/Brandie soon! Thanks for reviewing, hope you liked this chapter! I know people would be mad at me if they didn't talk!  
  
**Vinnie Monfredo:** Did you like it? Hope so. Thank you soo much for reviewing last chapter. I liked that part too! A lot. That's why I wrote it ;) Hope you like how this turned out! Fun times!  
  
**BlackWiltedRose:** Your stories are better than mine, that's for sure! I'm soo flattered that you like my story! I hope you liked how this chapter turned out. Sorry it took so long to update! Cookie for you!  
  
**Pyro:** I was beginning to wonder if you were going to review! I was scared! Glad you did though! HA! Bri a mini newsie! That's too cool. Hope you liked this chapter! Thank you for reviewing! 


	17. Failure

Spot's Milkshake  
  
Chapter Seventeen: Failure  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Newsies, or the characters. I do own Brandie, and that's about it.  
  
And so began my week with my old friends. I wasn't entirely sure what I was going to do, nor did I know how I as going to tell Frederick that I was busy all week. It didn't matter right now. What mattered was I still had the whole day without having to worry about Frederick.  
  
Spot lead me out of his small room, and all the way back to the Manhattan lodging house. He politely kissed my hand, and held the door open for me.  
  
"Dis is wheah I leave ya Missy Brandie." He told me, bowing lowly, tipping his hat to me. I laughed out loud, making him smirk. I didn't want him to leave, but accepted that there was no way to make him come back. I slowly walked into the lodging house, expecting it to be loud with talking, but I never expected what I saw or heard when I walked into the extra room Kloppman had built.  
  
The boys were running around, some without their shirts on, others had their shirts tied around their necks like capes. It was almost a funny site, except for the fact that most of them were drunk. I saw Jack standing in the corner. He looked sober, so I quickly made my way across the havoc filled room.  
  
"What's going on?" I asked him, having to raise my voice a little in order to be heard.  
  
"Dey had demselves a drinkin' contest, ta see who could get drunk foist. It was close between Race and Kid Blink, not sure who dey decided won it. Now dey is jus' havin' a good time." I smiled slightly. I was a little funny watching grown men running around like idiots.  
  
"Where's Brianna?" I asked, a little scared at first. He smirked.  
  
"She's fine. Upstairs wit da younger boys. Well, younger compared ta us. Da ages ranged from 12-18. Once ya hit 19 ya move ova heah. But most of da boys leave once day turn 19. Why don't cha go git 'er." He told me. I nodded, walking back across the room at a hurried pace.  
  
"Dollface, wheah ya goin'?" I heard a voice call to me, a hand gripping my shoulder. I turned, face to face with Racetrack. The boy I was supposed to help. I didn't say anything for awhile.  
  
"I was going to go get Bri, but, can we talk?" I asked him, sure my girl could hold her own, besides, if she was like me, she would enjoy being around all of those boys.  
  
"Sure." He told me, walking out of the lodging house, holding my hand. He sat on a bench right outside the lodging house. I sat next to him, a little uneasy. Spot hadn't really told me what his problems were. Only that he didn't gamble anymore, and wasn't allowed at the tracks. I didn't know how I was going to 'help' him. But maybe talking about it would help somewhat. I drew in a breath, and locked it inside my chest, thinking about how I was going to get him to let out his feelings. He was drunk, so maybe this wasn't the best time, but I really had to break the ice.  
  
"So, how is number seven doing nowadays? "I asked, pretending I had no idea he had been banned from the track, or about him quitting gambling. He winced.  
  
"She's doin' purdy good actually. Jus' saw 'er yesterday." He told me, producing a half smile. I could see the hint of sadness in his eyes. I smiled, pretending to believe him.  
  
"That's good. Want to go to the tracks sometime this week?" I asked, wanting him to tell me the truth.  
  
"Uh, not dis week. Booked really. How's about next week?" He frowned. I knew he knew I wouldn't be here next week.  
  
"I won't be here. We are leaving for Europe." I told him. I detected sympathy in my own voice.  
  
"Europe eh?" He asked, his speech a little slurred. I nodded, blushing. "Wha' da hell is in Europe?" He asked, looking quite upset.  
  
"Nothing really. Just the sites. Freddie wants to see them. He loves to travel." I said, sighing.  
  
"Ya don't like it?" He asked, taking hold of my hand. I shook my head.  
  
"It's not that. I do like it. But, I really just want to settle down for awhile. He promises that we will someday. But I can't wait for 'someday.' It's been so long, and he still isn't satisfied. Now we're going out of the country!" I said, exasperated. He grinned.  
  
"Goin' ta France?" He asked, smiling. "I heah da wine in France is superb." He told me, grinning widely.  
  
"Yeah, France. That, and Italy, Germany, Ireland, England, Switzerland all over. We'll probably be over there a couple of years. Well, a year and a half. Freddie already as some big shot plan about him and Terra, my other daughter, staying over there with his cousin. He told me I could come back to America and buy a house and then wait for him and Terra to come home. And then, according to him, our traveling days would be over." I smiled, hoping it was all true.  
  
"Wheah ya gonna live?" He asked. I stopped to think about this.  
  
"Uh, well I don't know. Probably New Jersey or something. It's where we both grew up." I told him.  
  
"Will ya come back an' visit us?" He asked quietly. I nodded slowly. This made him smile. "Promise ta bring me some of dat French wine?" He asked, smiling again. Again I nodded, but then came to my senses.  
  
"Race, we've really got to talk." I started slowly, not exactly sure how I was going to say this.  
  
"Bout what?" He asked, his speech still a little slurred.  
  
"About you." I told him. His smile faded into a frown.  
  
"Me?" He asked, a little bewildered. I could only nod. "Wha about me? What did I do now?" He asked, very upset. "Wha' did dey tell ya ta tell me? Dat I had betta clean me act up an' get a jump start on life?" He raged, a couple passerby's stared at him. I waved, reminding me of the days when I would do that just for fun, to spite people around me.  
  
"They didn't tell me any of that. How is your life out of control? You obviously know it is!" I equaled his volume. "How do you know that anyone told me how you live now?" I asked him.  
  
"Someone did! I know dey did. But why? I don't need help! Neva did." He fumed, standing up. He turned his back to me and walked away into the evening. I watched him go, noticing his stagger.  
  
"Didn't go so well eh Milkie?" Spot stepped out from the shadows. I should have known he would be listening.  
  
"Please don't call me that." I said politely. He nodded, taking my hand.  
  
"I'm sorry. I put ya up ta an impossible challenge. We've all tried ta help him. It's impossible. I don't know why I thought ya would change anyt'ing. T'anks fer tryin' though." He smiled weakly.  
  
"I want to see Sniff." I said bluntly. He stared at me, shocked.  
  
"S-sniff? But why?" He asked me.  
  
"I want to see him. You should be there anyways." I told him, turning to go get Brianna, ready to see my old friend in need.  
  
**a/n  
**  
Yep, very short. Please forgive me. I am very busy with my fics right now. Lot's going on right now. I am currently working on a new story, that I won't be posting until it is entirely finished, so that is my main priority at the moment. I think I will update my fics one more time, and then work on that story. I will be writing this one too.  
  
Expect an update around September 27th at the latest. That is when I want to have this new story totally done by. I may update before then, but I'm not sure yet.  
  
I do know how this story is going to end. I've known since I started the first chapter. Nothing has changed at all. Everything is going according to what I envisioned when I first started writing this chapter.  
  
Please stick with the story, even if there are no updates in the month of August! Much love to you all!  
  
Shoutouts:  
  
**BlackWiltedRose:** Thank you soo much for your reviews! I love reading them. See, see, I got this chapter out! YAY! Yeah, it's short, but it's something huh? I'll try to hurry along with the next one, but I really want to get this new story finished. So far I've done a chapter a day..whew..much work. Anyways, hope you liked this one.  
  
**Vinnie Monfredo:** Of course it's all for the story. Guess who gets to be in the next chapter? Yep, Smalls does! YAY! Besides, you've raise Emil for four years. Geez, isn't that good enough for you? HA! Just kidding. Hope you liked this chapter, kinda short, you'll get over it! Thankies for the last review!  
  
**Coin:** Hope you are having fun in Ireland! Heh, I am Irish too! Hope you like this chapter, mucho fun! It is short, but hey, less reading for you ;)  
  
**Tiggie:** Kill Freddy! MUHAWW! kills freddy there, I killed him. But that wasn't really him, you see, he has a decoy..damn..anyways, thanks for the review! Yes, I want Spot and Brandie together sighs We'll see what happens!  
  
**Clover6776:** Glad you found me story! Yeah, their lives do suck right now. Hope you liked this chapter! Kinda short, but no big deal! Thankies for reviewing!  
  
Until next chapter... 


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